


At Sixes and Sevens

by Anxiety_Pickle



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Danzo is an asshole, Danzo is the worst, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen, Itachi makes better decisions, No Uchiha Massacre, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Uchiha Itachi, The butterfly effect, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Worldbuilding, and leaves Konoha with Sasuke, the akatsuki are also assholes but in a fun way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxiety_Pickle/pseuds/Anxiety_Pickle
Summary: The temple stairs run red with blood, and Shisui Uchiha is dead.The fate of the clan and the village sits in Itachi's hands, but instead of going through with Danzo's massacre, he makes a different decision: he takes Sasuke, and he leaves.
Relationships: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 & Uchiha Sasuke, Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Itachi, Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke & Uchiha Shisui
Comments: 181
Kudos: 484





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> @confusion_cucumber this is all your fault you're a terrible enabler

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Kakashi perches precariously at the corner of the drooping tile ceiling, staring down into the dark street. Itachi twitches like he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, and glances up into the shadows. 

“Kakashi.” He greets, a touch sheepish, just eclipsing the cagey set to his shoulders. It’s always a little hard to tell with him. Kakashi has a bit of trouble with people in general, but especially with Itachi. His crows are always an easy tell, though. The one on his shoulder is restless, ink-blot wings twitching and shifting while it pulls anxiously on the locks of hair escaping his ponytail. Two more circle overhead like descending vultures.

No doubt about it. He’s anxious. About what, Kakashi can’t be certain. He can always try needling it out of him, of course.

(Well, he _might_ have an idea, but he doesn’t really want to consider that one just yet. He knows there’s a ROOT agent watching from the rooftop behind his). 

“You picked a lovely night for a stroll.” He drawls, and slips to the ground. Itachi’s eyes follow him, and then his shoulders slump.

“Is it that easy to tell?”

Kakashi reaches down to plant a hand on his head. “Your crows give you away every time.”

He grimaces, and the one on his shoulder jumps onto his outstretched arm, giving itself a wider berth for its not inconsiderable wingspan. 

“So, what’s up? Or is this another secret mission?”

Kakashi doesn’t like giving solo-missions to him, especially not of the secretive nature. Specifically, all orders to Itachi have to go through him, first, and he’s beginning to fear Danzo’s, and by extension, ROOT’s, growing influence. There’s no real way to tell who the orders are coming from when the Sandaime has been reduced to little more than the council’s puppet.

“It’s confidential. My apologies.”

His breath whistles through his teeth and carries away with the cool night breeze. “Always so formal.”

He accompanies Itachi the rest of the way home. 

Kakashi glances down at Itachi and the slowly bristling crow. He can almost see hackles rising as they approach the iron wrought gate of the Uchiha compound. The crow starts chattering lowly. Shuffling wings, ducked head, nervous fidgeting. 

He raises an eyebrow. “You alright?”

Itachi smiles, pinched. The crow caws. “Fine. Thank you for walking with me.” The latch on the gate closes. “Goodnight.”

Kakashi sighs, and turns around, careful to keep track of the agents at his periphery, and retreats back to his office.

Shisui is waiting by the house when he gets there. He slings an arm around his shoulder, and for a moment Itachi can push aside the anxiety blooming in his lungs. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me.”

Shisui shrugs. “You think so little of me. What kind of cousin would I be if I didn’t?” He taps his shoulder, then. “You okay?”

He breathes a laugh. “Maybe I am that transparent.”

Shisui raises an eyebrow. “What’d Danzo say this time?”

“More… implied.” But a strong implication it was. An implication he didn’t like at all. 

(“It’s truly a pity that your clan can’t be persuaded. But if they’re so convinced to take this path of self destruction, then there’s little to be done with it. But, you should want to reduce the collateral, yes? It would be such a _shame_ if something were to happen to your brother.”)

Itachi’s grip tightens.

“Can father and mother not be convinced?”

Shisui sighs. “You know how they are. Stubborn pride and all that. And it’s not like the village is willing to compromise, either.”  
“  
If we would stop with this coup then they might.” He defends. 

Shisui guides them both to the fence, which he leans against, scratching the crow’s heads as they circle. They’ve always liked Shisui. 

“I don’t know about that. They should’ve wanted to compromise from the beginning if they were so willing to prevent the violence, right? It isn’t a great tactical move on their part. It’s not like their demands were all that unreasonable, really. It's just a matter of principle. But that’s not the problem.” He sighs. “No amount of convincing is going to stop anything now. I’m going to do it tomorrow.”

“... will you be alright?”

“I’ll be functional.” Shisui’s grin is slanted. “Don’t worry about it. Won’t even take a minute.”

Telling Itachi _not to worry_ is a bit of a moot point, but he keeps that locked firmly behind his teeth. He’s never liked Danzo. The thought of him, especially considering what he said earlier, turns his stomach, but he had respected his position. His contribution to the village. 

But _this._ This feels like too much. 

He breathes deeply. As long as Shisui can get it taken care of, there’s no need to be worried anymore. Even if the crows caw and shriek when Danzo arrives, even with the implicit threats hanging like barbed wire behind his teeth, it’s fine. It’s fine. The village demands his loyalty, and he has nothing else to give. 

“Sasuke fell asleep on the couch waiting for you.” Shisui interrupts his thoughts. “You better go see him.”

Itachi thanks him with a bowed head and Shisui ruffles his hair.

The morning is abuzz with the bright chirping of cicadas.

The humidity-choked atmosphere heralded their awakening. The trees are covered in translucent nymph exoskeletons that Itachi had shown him earlier this morning before he set inside. The sky is breaking pink and purple and the river is flooding, as it’s prone to this time of year. He wades through the shallows, balancing on flat, slippery stones covered in algae. The silver scales of a fish flash near his ankle. He turns in a circle, cold foam pulling at his knees.

He steps onto another wobbling rock, and folds away the sprouting cattails and bulrushes, exposing the soft, saturated soil, dark with moisture. 

The bright scales of something buries itself in the mud. Probably a salamander. 

The Uchiha district is a soft glow in the distance. The hanging paper lanterns combat the deep, bruised tones of early morning. Itachi had promised to help him hang the rest of the lanterns, but he had left for the night and didn’t come back, so Sasuke finished the job himself. 

Itachi came home late last night - or early in the morning, depending on how you looked at it. He’s been doing that more and more lately, but when the porch door snapped open in an uncharacteristic burst of frustration, Sasuke had woken up and trotted down the stairs. Akiko had let him see the kiln, though, and showed him the wide variety of glazed pots that are to be transported to Amaterasu’s shrine when the summer festival officially starts tomorrow. She shares her workspace with a conjoined building, connected by the East wall. On the other side of blackened, fire-proof stone, was Hiroshi’s forge, which he’s not old enough to be allowed inside yet. 

The dichotomy between delicate glass figurines, glazed pottery, and the strength and deadly precision of swords, all created by the same flames, would never cease to fascinate him. 

Hiroshi mentioned that he might shape up to be a swordsmith. Itachi’s flames are too controlled, not quite hot enough to make for steel forging. Usually you’re good at one or the other, but Itachi has demonstrated the amazing ability to be good at neither.

(The glass figurine he was gifted for his seventh birthday looks a little more like a snake with scoliosis than a salamander, but he appreciates the effort).

“What’re you doing out here so early, kiddo? I thought Itachi said you hated waking up.” 

Shisui plops a hand on his head. Sasuke nearly jumps out of his skin, and pouts, ducking away from his hand. “Stop _doing_ that.” 

“It’s good training.” Shisui laughs. “When you learn to see me coming, you’ll be ready for anything.”

Sasuke grumbles as he smooths his bangs back down. 

The salamander from before is gone. 

He turns back into the water and watches a royal blue dragonfly dart through the sawgrass, glittering like polished sapphire. 

“What’re you doing out here so early?” Shisui crouches down, glancing over his shoulder. “Looking for salamanders again?”

There was a little bit of a joking competition between the Uchiha kids. Salamanders weren’t to be removed from their natural habitats, not when they were considered the sacred descendants from dragons (and if they’re _also_ descended from dragons, does that make them cousins? Sasuke isn’t quite sure how that one’s supposed to work) and protected under Amaterasu’s eye. Whoever caught the biggest one was the winner.

He shakes his head.

Shisui hums, and glances at the cluster of houses in the distance. “Is Itachi back yet?”

Something is going on, and no one will tell him anything. Shisui and Itachi are always gone, handling something that Sasuke is not privy to. He’s never really seen Itachi get upset, either, but if he ever was, it would be this morning.

“He’s… upset.”

Shisui frowns, and catches himself, before reaching to ruffle his hair again. “I’m sure it’s fine. Teenage angst and all, you know? Well, you wouldn’t know yet, squirt.”

Sasuke huffs. _“You’re_ a teenager.”

Shisui pauses, as if to consider. “Well, you’re right about that.” He stands up, and brushes his hands off on his pants. “We should probably give him some space, then. I’m sure he just doesn’t want you to get caught up in the drama.”

Sasuke isn’t so sure. He’s _never_ seen Itachi talk back, much less get in a full blown argument that could be heard through the walls. It wasn’t something he was supposed to be hearing, either, and Itachi had told him to leave. Sasuke wants to trust him, but he can’t help his curiosity. What is it that could possibly have upset Itachi that much?

Sasuke frowns. “But-”

“Nope, no buts. Itachi is fine, the hormones and phase of the moon or whatever will all blow over.”

Sasuke scrunches up his nose. “Being a teenager is like being a werewolf?”

“Exactly! Now you’re getting it.” 

He extends a hand, and pulls him out of the shallows. “Wanna go for a walk?”

The path that cuts through the woods to Amaterasu’s shrine is a long, scenic one, and it’s most beautiful at this time of year. Goblets of multicolored fire hang suspended on lines of wire draped from the trees, lighting the path to the largest shrine there is. 

“They wanted to hang up a few more lanterns up there, didn’t they?” Shisui asks. Sasuke nearly has to jog to keep up with his leisurely pace. “I think they have some in storage back there.”

Sasuke hasn’t been here since the last summer festival, but he doesn’t remember it well. He _does_ remember that Aunt Jiro set part of the thatch ceiling on fire, though.

Shisui swings the arm Sasuke’s holding on to. “You excited?”

“For what?”

“Y’know, you get to try making glass tomorrow. Or steel, if you’re better at that. You should make me something. Like an otter.”

“Why an otter? I don’t know what those look like.”

“Just know: whatever you do, it’ll be better than Itachi’s.”

He laughs, quiet, hiccuping giggles. “Don’t bully him when he’s not around.”

“So I can bully him when he _is_ around?”

“No!”

Shisui laughs. “You could try to make a cat. You know what those look like.”

Sasuke shrugs halfheartedly. 

“Or maybe a crow.”

Sasuke spots the temple overhead, on the other side of the bridge. The river splits in two here, diverting from the main path and careening to the left. A blue heron wades through the shallows, watching for its next meal. 

“C’mon, let’s go.”

The first hour is spent in relative peace. Sasuke hangs over the railing, pointing out schools of fish darting over the circular concavities in the rockbed. He turns around, ready to inquire about the strange amber-finned ones, but Shisui has gone stock still.

A crow watches from the treetops, it's quiet chittering a low melody in the bramble. The forest seems strangely still. 

“Shisui?”

He quiets him softly. A bird shrieks in the distance. 

He creeps closer, and Shisui grabs him by the shoulders. 

“Sasuke.” He says slowly, carefully. “You should go back to the compound.”

“What?” He frowns. “Why?”

The air is thick with tension, suddenly. It jumps down his spine like a static shock. Sasuke shifts his weight between his feet. 

“Run when I tell you, okay? Run back to the compound and get help. Don’t turn around, just run. As fast as you can.”

“But-”

_“Go!”_

A branch cracks. Sasuke runs. 

The shadows tangle around his feet. The branches loom over him and swallow the path in gnarled roots. In the distance, he hears a wet _thud._ His heart shoots into his throat and he makes the mistake of turning around. He sees a flash of red, the glint of steel, what can almost certainly be the Sharingan, its pattern distorted and looping, and _Shisui._

A man turns towards him, half wrapped in bandages. Blood drips down from his hand.

Something passes behind him. He turns, and the scream gets lodged in his throat. He slides to the ground, and into darkness. 

“You can’t- Itachi?” Mikoto pauses, stiff anger still visible on her face as she places the dishes in the sink. Through the window, he can see Shiori, Mikoto’s leopard, raise her head from the stones she sunbathes on, sleek black fur shining in the light. 

The crows are shrieking and taking to the sky like storm clouds. He wraps his fingers tight around the back of the chair, and struggles to breathe. 

“I need to go.”

No matter how fast he runs, he doesn’t get there fast enough. 

The woods are destroyed - he can’t tell how much. Acres, at least, blackened leaves and branches. Sasuke is on the ground, unconscious but very much alive. 

He picks him up, looking frantically through the wreckage for Shisui.

And finds him.

The temple steps are spilled with blood.

Danzo’s office is cold, and if Itachi was not welcome before, he is an intruder now.

His knuckles are white at his knees.

“You planned to kill him.”

Danzo does not deny it. He continues working with graceful, deliberate strokes, as if he does not have blood on his hands, as if Itachi’s eyes aren’t pinwheeling black. No one had told him that the Mangekyo hurts. “Your brother wasn’t meant to be caught in the attack.”

_Do you have his eyes now, under those bandages?_ Itachi thinks, but doesn’t ask. The thought makes him nauseous. 

“But he was.”

“He was.” Danzo agrees, and looks up at him. He's wrapped in bandages. Itachi is going to rip his head off his neck. “He wasn’t intended to be, though.”

But he did mean to kill Shisui.

“Why?” He grinds out eventually, and fails to keep his voice steady. “He was loyal to you.”

“His loyalty was cheap. His only _loyalty_ was to your cursed clan. I made a pragmatic decision to eliminate an unstable variable. I thought you would at least understand that.” He looks down the bridge of his nose with nothing but contempt. “I see now that you possess the same character flaw. Perhaps your employment was a mistake.”

Shisui’s plan had involved no violence. And Danzo had killed him anyway.

_Why?_

Itachi chokes back his anger. “Sasuke is the only one who knows. What do you plan to do?”

“The pragmatic thing, of course.”

The threat shivers down his spine, and the severity of it roars in his ears like thunder. He sits straighter.

“I see.” Itachi stands, and doesn’t bother excusing himself. He doesn’t turn his back to the ROOT agents as he leaves.

Sasuke was released from the hospital a handful of hours ago, but he hasn’t offered any insight into the attack. He stares at Itachi with the bloody light of the Sharingan shimmering in his eyes, glassy and indistinct, and his heart sinks.

Itachi kneels next to him near the rocks. Shiori’s ears are pricked, glaring into the house with narrowed eyes and slit pupils. She likes Sasuke, though, and continues to let him absentmindedly pet her.

“... he killed Shisui.” Sasuke eventually offers, quiet and choked. 

Itachi swallows hard and hides his shaking hands. “Did you see who it was?”

He makes a strangled sound. “His _arm,_ his -he had -” His voice falls. “Shisui’s _eyes.”_

They found evidence of genjutsu. The effects were subtle enough that the hospital didn’t know how to treat it, and Itachi had found him quickly enough that whatever it was couldn’t have done too much damage, but… there was evidence. 

He drops his head, trying to hide behind his bangs. “I didn’t see anything else.”

They’ve already been through this line of questioning before. ANBU should’ve come to investigate by now, given that Shisui was one of them and his secrets could be harvested by anyone who decided to come across him. ANBU doesn’t have the greatest relations with the Uchiha right now, though. So maybe he shouldn’t be surprised.

“I’m sorry.” Sasuke says, voice thick, hitched. 

Horror chills him. “It isn’t your fault.”

It’s…

It was the Uchiha’s fault, for causing this issue in the first place. If they weren’t so keen on this coup, then-

Then-

Sasuke blinks, and a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks. “If I wasn’t there would he still be alive?”

Itachi takes a deep breath and holds it. “I don’t know.”

He can hear another argument taking place in the house - no doubt having to do with the funeral. About the time the murder took place - during the beginnings of the festival. Shisui’s name was engraved on the stone inside the temple the moment he awakened the Sharingan (and Sasuke would have to do the same, now), but his eyes had been taken. As if that own indignity wasn’t enough, they would have to change the proceedings. 

He doesn’t mention any of this. 

“I have to go see Kakashi. Do you want to stay out here?”

When he gets no response, he sighs. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Danzo killed Shisui.”

It isn’t the most appropriate entrance, and it certainly isn’t an appropriate way to address his senior. But Kakashi doesn’t so much as bat an eye. His mask hangs on the hook next to his desk, cluttered with paperwork. His mask is pulled down around the bridge of his nose, exposing two black eyes. Without the thin white scar, it would be impossible to distinguish one from the other. It would be impossible to know which eye held the Sharingan. 

“But you already knew that.”

Kakashi sighs, and runs a hand down his face. “I had my suspicions. Those ROOT agents were tailing you constantly.”

Itachi balls his fists, and then releases the tension, slowly. “Is that why you won’t investigate?”

It’s been a full day. Any viable evidence will have almost disappeared. Shisui’s eyes have been stolen - not an uncommon practice, for people with valuable kekkei genkai. Uchiha children have been going missing for years. The unfortunate thing about the Sharingan was that it was most commonly awoken through trauma - and that made it all the more enticing to the prospective kidnapper. 

Kakashi sighs again, heavier this time, laced with exhaustion. “Ibikki won’t approve it. He knows what we’ll find if we do.”

Itachi… Itachi _knows_ that ROOT has been behind the kidnapping of children, but their backing was so strong that a case could never be levelled. Endorsed by the Hyuga, perhaps the most influential clan in Konoha (the clan that could see chakra - the clan that almost certainly knew what Danzo was doing), they could get away with most anything - and they did. Repeatedly. But Itachi had hoped, with Shisui’s profile, that they’d be inclined to at least do _something._

Was Shisui’s life really worth so little to them?

Uncertainty worms into his gut. He’s not stupid, either. He’s seen the way people look at them, when they realize that Uchiha have infiltrated ANBU’s ranks. Because his clan is a traitorous, untrustworthy one.

But Shisui hadn't been traitorous. Shisui had committed himself to a nonviolent approach. 

“So there’s nothing you can do.”

“I’m sorry, this is where my jurisdiction ends.” The silence stretches. “I’m sorry about Shisui.”

Itachi doesn’t want to hear anyone is _sorry._ He wants his cousin back. 

And if not that, then…

Then he doesn’t _know._

_It’s Danzo’s fault,_ the traitorous voice at the back of his head chimes. He shakes it away.

“If no one is held accountable the Uchiha will resort to violence.” He says. “And now there’s nothing to stop them.”

“You were planning on stopping them?”

“Shisui had a plan - his Mangekyo.” He stops himself. 

“Were you involved with Danzo, personally?”

“... yes.”

“I probably should’ve seen that coming.” Kakashi admits eventually. “He tried to do the same thing with me. It’s not… surprising, that he would have a stake in your clan.”

Except it didn’t make _sense._ Why would he kill Shisui if he was working in the village’s best interests? His solution had provided the most peaceful resolution - no unnecessary loss of life, a quick, efficient solution. Danzo had absolutely nothing to lose by at least letting Shisui attempt it - and it’s no coincidence that the attack happened the day Shisui said he would go through with the plan. There was no reason to kill Shisui, except…

Itachi goes cold, and clamps down on that line of thought. A bead of sweat creeps down his spine.

“Are you still involved with him?” Kakashi rests his chin on his palm, feigning nonchalance, but Itachi is well enough versed in his mannerisms to know that he’s trying to keep the situation calm. “Are you in danger if you try to retreat?”

“I… suppose I’ve already drawn the line.” He says. “I walked out on our last meeting, after a… disagreement. I assume I’ve been removed from his employment.”

“I might be able to check.” Kakashi offers. “And you don’t need to come in tomorrow - you’re on mandatory leave. I figure he has his fingerprints all over that too.”

If he hadn't gotten involved with Danzo, would Shisui be alive? Is this his fault?

“He took his eyes.”

Kakashi looks up slowly from his file, before starting to read again. Kakashi, of all people, knows the significance of the transferring of Sharingan. An incredible act of trust and devotion, to do so was to gift someone a piece of yourself, to bind you together. 

And to steal them, an act of horrible depravity, of greed, of indignity. 

A mangekyo was invaluable. And if Danzo had one, if he knew of their existence, well, Itachi doesn’t want to think about it.

“My brother was present when they attacked him. Danzo said that he wasn’t the intended target, but… my brother awakened the Sharingan, proof that he was witness to the murder, and is the only one capable of giving testimony. Danzo… insinuated that he would eliminate him. He… was prone to using him as a bargaining chip. If he’s decided that he’s no longer useful, he’s decided the same of me.”

Kakashi stares at him for a moment. “Do you have reason to believe you or your brother are in danger?”

“The entire clan is in danger.”

If Danzo was willing to kill Shisui, he would be willing to slaughter anyone. 

“I… I allied myself with him because of his position. As a member of the council, I was sure that he had the best interests of the village at heart.”

“You don’t have to explain.” Kakashi holds a hand up. “I understand. He got me, too.” He scoffs. “And mine was basically high treason.”

Itachi is almost curious, but decides it’s better not to ask.

“Danzo is not a person worthy of anyone’s loyalty.”

Kakashi doesn’t know that he wants to exterminate them like vermin, and that Itachi was convinced that it was in some way justifiable just a few days earlier. And what did that say about him? Did they deserve it? The woman down the street who liked to sell them dango? Izumi, who liked to tell stories around the bonfires? Shisui, who had been determined to find a peaceful solution? Was Danzo right to condemn them to death for the simple sin of existing? All of them, just like that? The same way ants and mice were disposed of?

He feels sick.

But he can push it aside for now, and focus on the most pressing issue: Sasuke’s safety.

“I have reason to believe Danzo wants to kill my brother.” His next breath comes out shuddering. “I want to ask a favor.”

He nudges Sasuke awake under the anonymity of night. 

His ANBU mask is tucked tight in his bag. He hadn't the time to dispose of it properly. He packed all last night, listening to Kakashi talk about the dangers of long-time travel in his floaty drawl as he finished another report. This is too great a favor to be asked, but Kakashi understands the importance. Itachi would have found a way to happen regardless, even if that meant relying on physical strength. If Danzo had not spared Shisui’s life simply because his pursuit of power was too tempting, then he wouldn’t spare Sasuke’s, not when he posed a direct threat to him. 

(Itachi isn’t sure they would have listened either way, though. He is only in ANBU because he’s _not like the rest of them._ As if Izumi or mother or father were inherently bad. Shisui would have died nameless either way).

Sasuke rubs his eyes. “Itachi…? What-?”

Itachi doesn’t waste any time. Every second is a second that Kakashi is using to divert attention away from them.

“Sasuke, get up, we have to go.”

“Why do we have to leave?” Sasuke whispers, glancing uncertainly at the shadowy walkways as they creep through the compound. His fingers are tight around the straps of his backpack, but Itachi doesn’t have time to ease his discomfort now. 

“You’re in danger.” He replies. “So we can’t stay. I’ll explain more later.”

Itachi has full confidence in his abilities, but the trip is… daunting, to say the least. He spent hours laboring over their destination, before deciding that Kusagakure would make for a good first stop. It was infamous for harboring criminals, especially considering the newly established Otogakure bordered it. The maps rolled up in their pouches are bled through with marker and ink. 

Shiori stops them by the gate with suspicious yellow eyes. Sasuke inhales through his teeth.

Itachi has nothing to say, so he only waits for her judgement. She knows full well the situation, being part of Konoha’s information network. Her tail curls and lashes before she steps out of the way.

“Thank you.” He says. She turns and slinks back down the street. 

He grabs Sasuke’s hand, and they start through the dark streets.

Shisui wanted a different solution, one that promised no violence, and Itachi can’t promise that. He doesn’t know how, when violence has been bred into him. He is a tool in need of direction, and he has taken the fate of both him and his brother into his hands. He doesn’t know what he believes about the village, the clan, who was right or wrong. And he doesn’t know if it was the right decision, but it’s the best he can do, and much preferable to the other option.

Sasuke bites his lip and glances over his shoulder, but he doesn’t say anything.

They plunge into the darkness beyond the wall, and leave Konoha behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

Travelling is an exercise in patience. Travelling through Kusagakure is an exercise of endurance. The trip thus far has been largely miserable: near intolerable humidity, heavy rain, and long, overlapping trails through steep, unforgiving topography all made for a rather irritable experience. 

Of all the ways he imagined leaving the village, this isn’t one of them. 

Travelling, on top of this, has been a steep learning curve. Sasuke is lucky that the Sharingan, undeveloped as it is, memorizes things perfectly. The first day had been the importance of proper chakra regulation, to ensure that hypertension exacerbated by overuse of the Sharingan wouldn’t rob him of his sight by the ripe age of twenty two. Then it had been temperature regulation, as they climbed the mountain range bordering Kusagakure and Western Fire Country, full of deep ravines and small waterfalls. The next lesson had been basic survival; how to seal away perishables in scrolls rolled into your pockets so they wouldn’t spoil, how to ration food, how to identify what plants were poisonous. They don’t touch fire - there’s nothing Itachi could say that Sasuke hasn’t already been taught. 

Kusagakure doesn’t exactly live up to its name, but he’s told that, on the other side of the forest belt, that’s where the lowlands are, sheltered by Iwa’s mountains, and on that delta the rice was grown. 

Itachi glances over his shoulder. His hair is kept off his shoulders, sweat covering the back of his neck. Sasuke has to actively remind himself that he’s supposed to be cycling his chakra or he’s going to die from dehydration. 

“Did you figure it out?”

Itachi sighs, and looks back at the symbol carved into the tree. Sasuke isn’t entirely sure what language it’s written in, but he does know that he’s seen it three times now, on three different trees. 

“All of these trails are unmarked. We’re supposed to cut through the forest and cross over the narrowest part of the river.”

The reality of having left Konoha behind still hasn’t settled in completely. There wasn’t a lot of time to come to terms with his new reality between all the things he had to learn - how to purify water with charcoal, how to make rope from the branches of willow trees, how to cook with the heated stones from the campfire, on and on. He’s almost worried that if he does sit down to let it sink in, he might never stand up again. 

Itachi said it was for his safety - because a man named Danzo had killed Shisui and would kill him too. But that wasn’t all of it. 

“Where are we going?”

“We’ll resupply in the nearest village.” Itachi supplies. “We should lay low for a couple of days before moving on. We’re going to cross the border into Iwa. There’s a civilian checkpoint that we can get through - I… _acquired_ passports that will get us through. Konoha doesn’t have any reach there, so we can slow down.”

That strikes him as odd. He comes to the realization slowly, and all at once.

“Are we missing nin?”

Itachi grimaces. “I am.”

The leaves shuffle and insects chirp. 

“... oh.” He says, all the breath knocked out of him. 

Itachi looks at him strangely. “We need to keep away from Danzo’s influence. I doubt that he’ll follow us out here, but… just to be safe.”

Sasuke drags his feet as they continue. “Are we ever going back home?”

The silence on Itachi’s end feels more guilty than anything else, which is probably indicative of his answer. “... I don’t know.”

He follows Itachi carefully up the tree at their side. Itachi watches him closely, just in case he falls. Apparently, it’s better to teach this skill young, when chakra is less potent and therefore easier to control. Walking is good, like it’s good when Itachi points out native flora or explains something to him, because then he doesn’t have to think about the image of Shisui, his eyes ripped out of his skull, burned into his eyes. 

Just. Don’t think about it, and the nausea stays away. 

“It feels like it’s gonna rain.” There’s an ache deep in his bones. Itachi raises an eyebrow. “You can tell?”

It does rain. Storm clouds gather and disperse by the time they reach the edge of the forest belt, ready to step into the floodplains. 

Sasuke is soaked to the bone by the time the brief storm is over, but the taste of lightning sticks around long after. 

“A little further to the river.” Itachi calls, and reaches to steady him as he stumbles. “You’ll get better.” He promises, as they both reach the soft ground. 

Kakashi is three quarters of the way through the paperwork he was supposed to turn in almost a week ago when he hears a knock at the door.

A cursory search gives him a shifting water nature, and what is most certainly anger.

Well, he’s started his day with worse.

He pulls open the door without another thought and beams at one Inoichi Yamanaka, a thick binder overflowing with paper, barely contained by the truly herculean efforts of the string tied around its width in his hand. Kakashi thinks, not for the first time, that he does not envy him.

“Kakashi.” Inoichi says slowly, presenting him the wad of files, as if he expects Kakashi to tote it around. It’d probably knock him over. “What the _hell_ did you do?”

Well, he’ll give it to T&I, _that_ went fast. Faster than he would’ve expected out of the department, anyway.

He grins behind his mask. “How about you take a seat.”

Sasuke is supposed to wait while Itachi talks to the village elder, because apparently you’re not supposed to cross the only bridge over the river, coursing with rainwater, with their permission. Itachi had glanced at him nervously, no less than three crows had flocked to his side, and then he had stalked off to negotiate… something. He clearly doesn’t like them much.

The other kids in front of him make a boisterous effort to greet him. 

A girl with tan skin and dark, thick hair tied into braids pulls at his hair and marvels at the crows. She hikes her woven basket higher on her hip, filled with heavy reeds. 

“Where are you from?” She asks. “We _never_ get tourists. Are you from Fire Country?” She tilts her head. “I think they have a clan there… the Uchiha? Is that it? Are you one of those?”

He stiffens and glances at Itachi. 

“We’re half.” He lies, remembering what Itachi said. “Refugees from the other side of the forest.”

“Oh, bastards! My brother is too.” 

Sasuke… isn’t sure how to reply to that.

“Your crow is cute.”

“It’s not mine.” 

The crow caws and snaps at the offending finger. 

He catches Itachi approaching quickly from the elder’s home. He grabs his wrist and bows his head to both the elder and his granddaughter. “Thank you for your hospitality. We’ll be off your territory quickly.”

The man stares from under heavy, graying brows, and turns, before walking back.

“That girl - what did you tell her?”

“What you told me to tell!”

“Alright, good.” His grip is almost crushing, but he doesn’t say anything. “We should get out of here quickly.”

“Why?”

Itachi sighs through his teeth and pulls something out of his pocket. “This was apparently distributed two days ago.”

Sasuke stares down at the Bingo Book presented to him as they hurry over the bridge. No picture presented, because all photographic evidence of one’s existence was purged upon joining ANBU and all associated personal files disposed of. But name, age, and appearance was described, and their Uchiha lineage was starkly obvious (maybe not so much for Itachi, but Sasuke was about as Uchiha as he could possibly look). 

Itachi Uchiha, S-rank, believed to have kidnapped younger brother, Sasuke Uchiha. 

“Why am I listed as being kidnapped?” 

“Because you were.” Itachi says. “In a manner of speaking.”

“I wasn’t.” Sasuke frowns. “You said we were in danger.”

“We are. But I’m the one responsible for involving you.”

_“You_ didn’t _kill Shisui.”_

The nausea is back, a little stronger this time. The pressure at the back of his eyes is stronger and more painful than before. 

Itachi stiffens minutely, and the crows resume their position on his shoulders. They’re both soaked to the bone, Sasuke is balancing chakra exhaustion with sleep deprivation and Itachi must have it twice as bad, the air is hot and humid and uncomfortable, and Shisui is dead and neither one of them has addressed that fact. Itachi releases his breath. “I wasn’t. But - there is something I should tell you. Later, though. These roads are known for thieves.”

The victory at having chipped away at the ANBU demeanor Itachi cultivated and never really stepped away from is fleeting and cheap, and it’s quickly dampened by guilt and muddy water and the man - Danzo - with his body stitched together with blood.

(The med-nin didn’t exactly know what he did, what the genjutsu’s purpose that put him under was supposed to do, but he feels like it rattled something, it feels like it shook something loose from his core that doesn’t fit back in anymore. But nobody asked him anything besides that). 

“You could beat them.”

Itachi’s mouth curls into the ghost of a smile, and he flicks him in the forehead. “Don’t get overconfident.”

Sasuke huffs, and follows him up the dirt road.

“So, ANBU captain Hatake, would you care to explain the discrepancies in scheduling on the night of Itachi and Sasuke’s disappearance?”

Kakashi hums. “That’s an unfortunate coincidence.” 

Inoichi looks like he’s on the verge of a heart attack. The last time Kakashi’s seen him this wound up was his last psych eval.

(That’s only a little bit funny).

“Both Hawk and Tengu were stationed in sect B despite the explicit instruction that only one guard needed posting there at a time. The same double-up happened in the west wing, so there was no one guarding the front gate. You expect anyone to believe this is coincidence?”

“Well,” Kakashi says. “That’s what happened, so, yes.”

“You,” Inoichi starts, flat. “Are _very_ lucky I like you. The conversation won’t leave this room. What, exactly, happened?”

Kakashi bounces his knee in a deliberate effort to look bored.

“I can’t really speak to the full extent of the issue.” He says, eyes sliding to the newly plastered privacy seals on the walls, like he really needs them for the amateur ROOT agents that have been tailing him for the past week. “But Itachi expressed to me a sentiment that he felt he and his brother were in an unsafe situation. You’re aware of the situation between the Uchiha and the village, I presume.”

Inoichi flinches. “Don’t remind me. Paperwork is backing up again - there’re so many complaints we can’t process them all.”

“Yes, well, this was directly following Shisui’s death, so I can understand the line of thought.”

He frowns. “You’re implying that Shisui’s killer threatened Sasuke?”

“Ah, don’t bother with the formalities. We both know it was Danzo. Itachi had some association with him - I’m not sure how deep in he was, but he implied that Sasuke would need to be eliminated as a witness.”

Inoichi is quiet for a long moment. “It’s rumored that Shisui was robbed of his eyes.”

Kakashi spins in the office chair they made a mistake of giving him. “Well, let’s not jump to conclusions.” Danzo absolutely stole his eyes, even if they were intending to sweep it under the rug. Shisui was a public figure, whether the council liked it or not, and people were going to notice that he was gone. “For that, you’d have to ask the Hyuga.”

The first village they’ve been to in the last week is a relatively meager one, with an equally humble population and modest technologies. They need to buy clothes that more resemble the fabrics woven here if they want to pass as natives. They can get away with the accents since there’s so many spoken dialects, most of them localized in small, tight-knit societies not unlike this one, but other mannerisms are going to throw them off.

Say, for example, the temptation to use chakra in the open.

Shinobi aren’t well liked in Kusagakure, because they can be one of two things: fugitives, or police, and the decentralization of the region and the recent war has only lent itself to the rise of paramilitary groups. 

They need to resupply, but they sorely lack money. It’s lucky that Kusagakure, especially its villages, prefer to barter. 

Itachi leaves him by the side of the road while he goes to talk to the nearest farmhand, offering their service in exchange for a place to sleep. 

He rocks back on his heels as Itachi’s crow makes a perch out of his hair - already full of matts and knots. This is one of the smaller ones, inconspicuous enough that they shouldn’t be targeted. 

A woman is selling jewelry underneath a string of lights hanging from building to building. The potted plant by her side sprouts bright green palms, but not as deep or rich as the jade bracelets hanging from the hooks on her stand. The Uchiha are known for not only tempering steel, but for their glass blown jewelry. Akiko had gone out of her way to instill in him a sense for what jewelry was good quality and which was cheap. He probably shouldn’t get closer for fear of being accused of stealing, or for being an Uchiha.

The crow flaps its wings.

A girl across the street playing with a frayed doll stares at him, and he shifts away uneasily.

“Do you think Itachi is done yet?”

The crow, predictably, doesn’t have an answer. It does, however, spare another look at the stand.

Itachi ends up at a bar.

He’s not in the habit of drinking, but the chase to find the farm owner had led him here, and he hadn't even had to lie about his age to get in. 

He’s currently negotiating a deal, and it looks like they’ll reach an agreement soon. The man looks a little inebriated, but spares no second thought to any presumed heritage and barrels right ahead to the work. Itachi listens as diligently as he can under the circumstances and tries not to think about the fact that he left Sasuke alone outside. It’s probably fine, of course, the crow would tell him if anything happened, but, still. 

He listens to the background noise instead. Glasses on the table, the low murmur of voices, and then-

“-Akatsuki.”

He stiffens instinctually. He recognizes that name.

Before, when he had… agreed to go through with Danzo’s plan, he’d arranged for him to have a place to go after and serve as a double agent for Konoha. The thought of the village leaves him nauseous and shaky so he shoves it to the back of his mind and chooses not to confront the fact that he’s a traitor and his brother is one by extension and Itachi had killed traitors and defectors before, might have had to hurt him if Konoha ordered him to.

“... yeah, got a village on the border, wiped everyone out…”

“Second fucking sighting this month.” The man pushes away his glass. “Government’s useless, won’t do anything about it.”

His companion snorts. “They’re not doing anything about the war either, so what can you really expect.”

The Akatsuki, rising from Amegakure’s ashes, was apparently poking around Kusagakure’s still warm coals. It makes sense that they’d want to search among Kusagakure for recruits in a country ravaged by war and filled with nothing but contempt for the villages that trampled over them.

And Itachi doesn’t want to be anywhere near them. 

He finalizes the deal and steps out of the bar.

The sun hits his face at a low, sloping angle, and he finds Sasuke exactly where he left him, with the crow perched dutifully on his messy hair (in dire need of a brush) with no less then two earrings and a necklace caught in its beak. 

“... where did you get that.” He glances at the stand as subtly as he can. “Did you steal those?”

_“Shh.”_ Sasuke hisses. “I told it not to!”

The crow tilts its head and drops the bracelet in Sasuke’s hand. 

Itachi should have known better than to think they would stay out of trouble, considering Shisui was trying to teach them how to steal coins from unsuspecting passerby and they’d gone along with it despite knowing better. This is really just his fault.

He sighs. “Try not to be so conspicuous about it next time.”

Sasuke grins in a way that makes Itachi sure he had some part in this, and pats the crow on its head.

It croons happily, and drops the rest of the jewelry.

Traitor.

The Uchhiha compound is unwelcome in general, but especially so when staring down the feared leapord summon of Mikoto Uchiha.

Sitting leisurely on the couch, it’s easy to forget her jounin status, until Shiori nudges her head onto her lap and pins him in place with her sharp yellow glare. The tea on the table sits untouched, cooling by the second. Inoichi doesn’t dare touch it.

“You’ll have to forgive my husband.” She smiles, pinched, and it doesn’t quite touch the darkness in her eyes. The curse of hatred, the kids used to mumble about on the playgrounds, words inherited from careless parents and from their parents before them. A ridiculous tale that people used to justify their prejudice - starting with one Tobirama Senju, even if that history has been since lost to the ages, Konoha’s steadily tightening curicculum crushing that particular piece of information to dust. “He’s at work.”

_Both of your children are gone,_ a less educated individual might say, _shouldn’t you be upset? That curse - maybe it’s true._

To even bring it up would be an insult to her career. 

“No worries.” He smiles. “I’m just here to get all the information. Itachi was in ANBU, so we have to be thorough.”

Not that this was going to go anywhere. There were so many defectors that Itachi would just be another number - or would be, if not for the fact that Danzo had a vested interest in him. And that made him dangerous.

The problem was that no one was sure what Danzo was going to do. The Uchiha are missing three of their children, during a holiday, no less, Danzo is under suspicion for Shisui’s murder, and both Itachi and Sasuke, the former of which Kakashi confirmed Danzo to have associations with, are missing.

This is gonna be a shitshow for PR.

“Did Itachi leave anything behind? Did he say anything that would’ve indicated where he was going?”

Kakashi hadn't been willing to cough up that information, and he hopes that if she knows, she won’t either. There are some fates worse than death, and when it comes to Danzo, he wouldn’t wish that fate on his worst enemy. 

“A note.” She replies, curt, and hands him a folded piece of paper. “They were both gone when I woke up. As far as I can tell all they took was necessities - food, water, clothing, the like. Itachi’s armor and sword are missing, and one of my old ones is missing from the dojo.”

He skims over the note. Nothing encoded as far as he can tell, but it’ll still go to T&I.

“Did he mention where he was going? Was he behaving abnormally?”

She shakes her head. “He didn’t say anything to me. His behavior was to be expected, considering Shisui’s death.”

She’s not giving the full story, but he doesn’t press.

“Alright.” He sighs. “I think that was all we needed from you. Thank you for your time.”

She smiles, still curt, and shows him to the door.

This is all such a nightmare.

Farm animals are big and strange and Sasuke likes the little black goat that follows him around the field. 

Itachi woke him up early this morning to tend to the animals, and he learned how to trim goat hooves. Itachi tried first, but the goat tried to headbutt him, and he looked stressed enough that Sasuke did it instead. 

They left earlier that day. Itachi was being unusually paranoid about moving quickly, something about getting to Iwa as quickly as possible.

“Why are we going so fast?”

“Do you want to slow down?”

“That’s not what I said.” Sasuke stumbles over a branch in his haste. “Why are you twitchy?”

“I’m not twitchy.”

“You _are._ You said you would explain everything but you _still_ haven’t.”

Itachi sighs through his teeth. “Can’t we have this conversation later?”

“You say that every time!”

“The Akatsuki were spotted around here. We should keep away from them.”

“Akatsuki? What are they?”

He grimaces. “A terrorist organization, I assume.”

“But why would they be after us?”

His frown twists again. Sasuke wishes he could read his expressions better. “I… might have had some brief associations with them at one point. Anyways, they know of my existence and by this point they know I’ve defected, which makes me a good target.”

_“Associations_ \- what do you mean you were associated-?”

_“Later,_ Sasuke.”

He quiets out of surprise more than anything, and then anger comes to take its place quickly. 

“Chunin patrolling ahead. Get down from the trees.”

“Danzo.” Hiruzen broaches the subject with an ease that belies the tension in the room. “I assume you’ve been informed of the situation with the Uchiha? What do you plan to do?”

Danzo doesn’t so much as lower his gaze. “The allegations don’t hold any water, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out. Nothing but the word of a traumatized child.”

That genjutsu placed on him would certainly deligitamize his testimony.

“And what do you make of Itachi?”

“It’s a pity that he turned out to be as irresolute as his cousin.”

Hiruzen nods slowly. “And you’ve heard about the movement of the Akatsuki?”

“I had made arrangments, should Itachi have gone through with the original plan. They might still hold a place in their ranks for him. He’s certainly enough to qualify, considering his defection.”

“The timing couldn’t have been worse.” Hiruzen sighs. “If the people are still intent on revolt-”

“You’ll have to ask someone else.” Danzo replies, but his tone is sharp. “Perhaps Agent Hatake might be able to provide you with more information.”

He raises a white eyebrow. “Are you casting accusations?”

“I would never, Sandaime. It’s simply acknownedlgement that Kakashi of the Sharingan might have a better concept of the clan he’s apart of.”

Hiruzen taps his pipe. “I’ll see to it. Can it be assumed that no action will be taken against the clan?”

“For the time being.” 

A non answer.

“Of course.” He waves a hand. “Then I suppose it’s safe to call this meeting adjourned.”

Sasuke edges closer to the fire pit and tries to remember what home felt like.

It’s strange how quickly he forgot. The shape of his room and the pattern of stones in the street, the stray cats that roamed the alleys and the bonfires that would be taking place this time of year. It feels foriegn now, like it’s already been replaced, out of his reach. 

It’s also much colder than it was before, with less tree cover to shield them from the wind.

He’s cold and tired and they’re probably never going home and Itachi hasn’t even told him why. 

The crow on his head twitches and tugs at a lock of hair. 

Itachi breaks the silence with a sigh. “You can ask what you want, now. I owe you an explanation.”

“Why did Danzo kill Shisui?”

“For his eyes.”

Sasuke digs his fingers into the loose earth. “Is that it?”

“... yes.”

Maybe he hadn't imagined that grotesque image of his arm full of stolen Sharingan, then. If he was a kekkei genkai thief, that would make sense. 

“Why didn’t he kill me?”

Itachi stiffens then, like a wire pulled taut. “I don’t know. It could’ve been many things. You’re a clan heir, for one. Your Sharingan isn’t fully developed. I got there fast enough.”

Not fast enough to save Shisui, though.

“But he was going to come after me anyways?”

“You were a witness. It would’ve been more convenient for him if you disappeared.”

“So he was going to kill me.”

He exhales, long and controlled. “He wanted to harm everyone in the clan, including you.”

_“Why?”_

He pokes at the fire with a stick. The coals crackle. “They weren’t cooperating.”

Sasuke… doesn’t like that, and the crows don’t either. Anxious. Circling. They’re a truer reflection of Itachi than Itachi is. 

Sasuke isn’t stupid. He noticed Itachi’s downward spiral over the past month. Shisui had told him it was nothing, that it would sort itself out, but now he realizes it was something else altogether.

“Sorry.” Sasuke says. “About-” Weighing Shisui down, making you leave the village to protect me. “-earlier.”

Itachi’s eyes flick up, and narrow slightly. “I’m sorry too. There was no need to snap.”

The silence descends again, less uncomfortable than before. Sasuke listens to the quiet crackling of embers and turns to the mountains in the distance - the first sign that they were closing in on Iwa. Then… he isn’t sure what then. What is there to do, if not become a Shinobi?

They have no village now, but maybe they can do something like Akiko does. Make beads or swords. 

“You should rest.” Itachi says. “I’ll take watch.”

“You took it last time.”

“It’s alright.” Itachi promises. “I’m used to it. I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

Sasuke doesn’t quite believe him, but the offer appeals to the exhaustion sinking into his bones. 

“... okay.”

The rain comes down colder here, and clearer. 

Free of muddled humidity and air that sticks to your lungs, the rain is cold and that’s it. Muddy and cold, and trekking up a mountain is equally as uncomfortable.

His hair drips in his eyes and the rain comes down slanted, churning the mountainside to mud. The rocks come dislodged and slide down to the valleys beneath. Itachi keeps a close eye on him as they climb. It’s almost embarassing. 

“I’m okay, Itachi.” He protests over the sound of the storm. Lightning hisses behind the clouds and his jaw aches before it thunders. Itachi asked him about that earlier, talked about chakra and how most Uchiha were fire natures, whether through heredity or environment was unknown. But his theory is that Sasuke has lightning-nature chakra. It would explain why he had so much difficulty learning katon.

“I know.”

Itachi extends a hand anyways, which he takes.

He doesn’t notice it through the rain, too busy trying to keep his footing and avoid tumbling down the side of the mountain to his certain death, to notice Itachi glancing over his shoulder. By the time he does notice, he doesn’t have the opportunity to ask. 

There should be no one on this path. It’s a backwater trail that winds through the ancestral land of a clan that no longer exists - not here, anyways. None of the caravans should be coming up this way at this time of year, and very few travellors would bear the brunt of a storm like this. 

Itachi stops abruptly, digging his heels into the earth, and Sasuke follows suit. He shifts, so Sasuke is half hidden behind him. He narrows his eyes, glaring out into the darkness. Even the Sharingan doesn't detect anything other than the sheets of rain falling. 

Lightning flashes and thunder follows, low and ominous. 

“What now?”

Border patrol had been bad enough. But Itachi hadn't exactly seemed afraid.

“There’s someone following us.” 

"How can you tell?"

"I want you to run."

_Go, Sasuke!_

He shakes his head. "No."

"You have to-"

"I hate to break up this touching moment," A hunched figure steps into the light. Sasori. "But I'm here on orders from the Akatsuki and I was made to track you halfway across the continent." He drawls, with all the enthusiasm of a wet towel. "Itachi Uchiha. The terms of the agreement have changed, but in return for your power, we offer you and your brother sanctuary and protection from Konoha. I extend you a formal invitation to our organization."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay here's chapter 2!
> 
> \- Danzo is not done causing problems, that's literally his only purpose.   
> \- Sasuke and Itachi are both in the deepest pit of denial humanly possible  
> \- The Akatsuki are also here to cause problems but they're fun. Sasori doesn't get paid enough to walk around in the rain. Desert man doesn't do good with the moisture
> 
> okay I need to go to sleep now thanks for reading yall


	3. Chapter 3

Shikamaru sits idly on the rusting swing set just at the Academy’s perimeter, not quite belonging to the square of sun-bleached concrete that the rest of his class, dull as they are, are currently playing on. Kiba kicks around a bright red rubber ball that Akamaru trots over dutifully to fetch. He might cloud-watch with Choji on the roof, but he always ends up falling asleep, or he might indulge in a game of Shogi if anyone thought to offer (he’d versed a few teachers before, and came out the undisputed winner every time, and easy as it might have been for him to pull off a victory against anyone that wasn’t his parents, it did give him the opportunity to think in depth about the current situation).

Because there was, indeed, a situation. 

His father had tried in vain to keep him out of the clan affairs, but his mother was the one to allow him to roam free, or so to speak. He was a Nara, after all. Insatiable hunger for knowledge was in his blood, and who was he to go against that? 

Everyone’s being tight lipped about it, though, which also doesn’t surprise him. Everything about the Uchiha clan is talked about behind closed doors, as if Shikamaru doesn’t know that everyone is afraid of them. He doesn’t know why they bother hiding it from him, he’s not stupid (even if he weren’t Nara, it isn’t exactly a difficult conclusion to come to). 

He’s also surmised that the problem is with ANBU - and that makes people jumpy, too. It’s never nice to think that someone so high in the village hierarchy can go rogue, or die, or go insane, or whatever it is that happened this time. It would’ve been harder to figure out if it weren’t for the fact that ANBU combed the school for evidence last week. Maybe some of the less academically gifted students could be fooled by the cleaning excuse, but he definitely wasn’t - and he assumed that Sakura wasn’t quite fooled, either.

He didn’t expect some civilian’s kid to know anything about ANBU procedures, though.

“Shikamaru!” Ino waves. “You wanna come play?”

He watches Sakura’s fingers tremble as she knocks over the line of dominos she was stacking, and the entire thing goes down.

“No thanks.” He replies, starting to make an effort at kicking his legs. 

Nobody has really mentioned why Sasuke is missing, either, which is a red flag in and of itself. The fact that someone had the gall to kidnap the heir to the Uchiha clan was absurd. You had to be either extremely brave or extremely stupid, or maybe both. One day Sasuke was there and the next he was _gone_ , and they were supposed to wave that off?

As if. 

Shikamaru is _really_ tired of the idiots in charge thinking he’s stupid. Maybe Naruto and Kiba can’t get their heads out of their asses long enough to consider the scope of this problem outside of how it immediately affected them (which ended at 'less competition', for what, Shikamaru wished he didn’t know), but him? A Nara?

Absolutely ridiculous. 

“Ino!” He calls, digging his heels into the ground. “I want to play!”

_Dominoes_ isn’t quite the stimulating game he was hoping for, but it serves as a distraction nonetheless.

“Sakura.” He says. “Don’t you think it’s weird that they won’t tell us what happened to Sasuke?”

She shrugs, resting her chin on her knees. “I don’t know. Maybe his family just doesn’t want anyone to know?”

Shikamaru hums. “I don’t think so. Technically we’re all just civilians right now - and the village is required to report the disappearance of civilians, particularly in cases of kidnappings-”

Ino inhales sharply through her teeth.

“-what, you saw the ANBU searching the building. We all know it was a kidnapping.” He continues unperturbed. “But my family would know about that, and his report isn’t there.”

Ino shrugs. “Maybe it’s just taking longer?”

Or maybe it was a higher class case then he thought, and it’s classified - but the only reason it would be classified, in this case, were if it were politically damning to someone in power here. 

“Sure.” He says, and knocks down another line. Sakura squawks at her hard work tumbling down. “If that’s what you think.”

He really should know better than to poke around in important matters, but you know what they say about that cat.

Iwa is much colder than Kusagakure.

The higher altitude mountains yield frequent snowstorms, and even now, before the cold months are slated to begin, the winds are harsh, scraping the bark off the exposed trunks of the pine trees dotting the topography. 

Itachi glances over his shoulder. Sasuke is making slow progress behind him, moving carefully up the steep path, the mud that had been churned up from the rainstorms already frozen again. They’d traded their more obvious clothing for heavier, more appropriate jackets at the nearest outpost, at the intersection between the middle of nowhere and barren wasteland. The woman behind the counter had nothing but sympathy for their fabricated plight. 

Itachi is also sure that, by now, there are ANBU teams searching for them. They’d ditched that danger by successfully crossing Iwa’s border, but exchanged it for a different one:

The Akatsuki. 

Superficially, Sasori’s proposition hadn't been a bad one. The prospect of protection from the law was tempting, in exchange for only their cooperation in fulfilling certain tasks for the organization, but it was risky. Itachi knows better than to assume what Sasori said about deadlines held any water.

(“You have three days to decide. Meet me at the checkpoint when you’ve made your decision.”)

He was deluding himself if he thought they had any real chance at refusing. It might incur their wrath, and while he trusted his abilities on his own, he didn’t trust that he could keep Sasuke safe from them, not when he made a perfect leveraging point. 

The safest choice, unfortunately, would be to renew his contract.

That didn’t mean Sasuke had to get involved, though.

Sasuke walks faster to catch up, exhaling steam. Like this, sheltered between two mountain peaks, he can almost imagine the dragons of Uchiha legend, but not as the creatures of fire they were depicted as. Curled around the mountain peaks, they would exhale not black, billowing smoke but cold, foggy steam. A mane full of icicles and talons of hard rock.

“You said you would teach me about chakra natures.” Sasuke says, and sniffs. Itachi has to forcibly remind himself that that’s a perfectly normal reaction to drastic temperature change and that he’s not getting sick. 

Itachi tries to remember where he left off. “I was telling you about fire natures, right?”

He nods, ducking his chin into the scarf wrapped around his neck that Itachi had to make him wear. He was certainly too stubborn to mention if he was cold (a habit that if Mom couldn’t break, he had no chance). “You said our clan came from the mountains.”

“They did.” He agrees. “They were nomadic, through the warring states period, until they settled in Konoha. Having a fire nature would be preferable in cold climates.”

Sasuke nods again, eyes trained on the ground, and Itachi desperately wished he knew what he was thinking. It clearly wasn’t anything good. 

“-but lightning natures were probably just as useful for predicting storms and moving accordingly.”

Sasuke glances up and back down, trained on the movement of his feet.

“Snowstorms here are deadly. You didn’t want to be around if you could avoid the particularly bad ones.”

It occurs to him that Sasuke has probably never seen snow. 

He glances down the path, which suddenly starts in a steep downward trek that’s probably injured quite a few. Sharp teeth of granite (which he only recognizes because of a specific incident during his time in ANBU because someone mining precious metal was tanking the economy and they’d been sent to deal with the issue) stick up from the path. 

He sighs, and the cold air hurts his chest. 

“The next town is close. We should hurry before it gets dark.”

The inn they eventually stop in has a crackling fireplace lined with stone, the floor draped with thick carpets. The air is warm, a nice relief from the cold outside. 

While Itachi unwinds by polishing his weapons, Sasuke sits on the thick wool blankets and blinks blearily at the window, fogged with condensation. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“You still haven’t told me what the Akatsuki are.”

Itachi sighs.

“We’re heading to that checkpoint that guy mentioned, aren’t we?”

“We are.” Itachi says after a minute. “They’re… an organization. For powerful missing nin.”

Sasuke doesn’t exactly have the same connotation for that as he does. Missing nin are traitors to their village, actively dangerous to the Shinobi system, but that’s what Itachi is now, a voluntary deserter, because the village would have allowed Sasuke’s death - and the death’s of who knew how many others. How many it’s already been responsible for.

Shisui would know what to do.

“Missing nin?” Sasuke’s mouth twists, but he doesn’t elaborate. 

“We’ll get to the meeting point by tomorrow. You don’t have to do anything, I don’t want you getting involved with them.”

“... okay.”

Shiori, draped across the dark rocks, heated by the sun, looks for all the world like she was nothing but sunbathing. The flicking of her tail tells Mikoto differently. 

Most of the ANBU agents assigned to watch them are gone by this point, satisfied that no such revolt was going to happen, and all clan meetings had to be postponed until free from their scrutiny. Shiori’s ears prick and she stretches languidly before sliding off her perch and joining her. Mikoto heads down to the clan meeting room for something long overdue.

The room is half full by the time she gets there, the air hot with fire, still staggering arrivals and keeping attendance as limited as possible. Fugaku is still at work, leaving her and the elders to mediate the conversation. 

Kakashi is also here, which is risky of him, considering the circumstances, and even more so given that he’s never attended one since Obito gifted him his Sharingan.

“Kakashi.” She greets, kneeling on the stone in front of the elders. “You made it.”

“Well,” Kakashi says, hunched forward. “It would be rude of me to refuse such a considerate invite. Is Fugaku here?”

“Hung up on work.” She replies. Shiori likes Kakashi, and she likes very few people. The theory that the Hatake were naturally good with animals seems like it’s true after all. “They’re giving the office more work than usual to keep them occupied.”

Kakashi nods. “And you’re doing alright?”

She absentmindedly scratches Shiori’s ear. “Well, as well as I probably can me doing. And it’s not as if my children are dead.”

“You can confirm that?”

“The crows would tell me if they were.”

Kakashi sighs. “That’s good. And the clan?”

“Well,” Her smile sours. “It’s not as if there’s much we can do now, with this amount of supervision. I’m assuming you knew of our plans, then?”

“Itachi told me, before he left.” He admits. “It’s not exactly surprising.”

“The things Danzo has done to our clan is unforgivable, you realize.” Mikoto says. “His crimes can only be paid in blood. A bit on the nose, if you think, but an _eye for an eye_ , as the saying goes.”

“I have no love for him. I doubt anyone here does. But be careful what you do now.”

Kakashi was… not an active member of the clan, per say, but Obito had trusted him enough to give him his Sharingan, and that gift alone made him one of theirs, and thus he was now the only member of ANBU allowed in their land. He was more loyal to the village than Mikoto would have liked, but enough to bend the rules when he saw fit. Something else that he had gotten from her nephew.

“We wouldn’t be so hasty.” She replies. “I’m afraid of what Danzo might do now, though. To think that he had the gall to try and have us exterminated.” She reigns in her anger and the pain at the back of her eyes. It’s inappropriate to wield the Sharingan here. “If he can get away with something like that, then how else will he escalate? I hardly think taking Uchiha children will satisfy him for long. And what with ROOT… ”

“I’ll see what I can find.” Kakashi promises. He knows full well the damage that ROOT can and will cause under Danzo’s command. “But I’m afraid I can’t do more than that.”

“Don’t worry about it. That’s all I ask.” 

Shiori purrs.

“Will you attend the funeral services?”

Shiori lifts her head from Mikoto’s lap long enough for Kakashi to scratch around her ears.

“Of course.”

The snow starts halfway through the second town.

First of the year or something, which is cause for celebration here. The windows, fogged with condensation, are home multi cored to paper pinwheels, and silver wind chimes hang by every doorway. 

The crows distract the children playing outside while they sneak by the forest path,and Sasuke turns just in time to see one fly off with one of the windchimes. It presents it to them proudly, dropping the silver wind chime into the snow while Itachi looks on exasperatedly and Sasuke squashes down the edges of his grin. 

“You’re going to get caught one of these times.” Itachi says, allowing it to perch on his finger. 

“What are we even supposed to do with that?”

It’s not like they could sell it like they could the jewelry, which had actually made them quite a bit of money. 

Itachi looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“We’re missing nin. Aren’t they _supposed_ to be thieves?”

Itachi rolls his eyes and ruffles his hair.

The meeting place is quiet. 

Too quiet.

The river below runs sluggishly around chunks of ice sticking out from the riverbank, coating the rocks already in the water. Itachi is sure that it’s cold enough to kill, if one were unlucky enough to fall in. 

He makes Sasuke stand back, away from the designated point, while he checks for traps. He can’t spot any hint of genjutsu; the trickling water seems real enough, the distant crunch of deer hooves over snow, the hollow whine of the wind all equally likely. No silver glare of wire or the flickering presence of chakra anywhere close. 

This feels like a bad idea, but not in a way that makes them any more at risk than they were already. Freedom from national authorities, the ability to cross the border easily, access to any of their resources. Not to mention that he couldn’t just turn them down. They’d be hunted anyways, and Itachi didn’t think so highly of himself that he trusted his ability to take on every member they threw at him, especially not when it put Sasuke’s life in danger.

And at this point, it’s not like they have anything to lose. He’s already denounced his loyalty to the village, and he knows that they can never come back, not while Danzo and the council still hold office. 

Taking this opportunity means that he can never come back from this, either, even if they do get rid of Danzo. 

(Maybe not Sasuke, though. If he can keep him out of this, then Sasuke might still have a chance). 

Sasori arrives almost twenty minutes later. The puppet armor isn’t made for the wet and the cold, and his irritation shows. 

“I presume you’ve come to accept our offer?” He says, voice gravelly. 

It’s now or never.

“Yes.”

“Our headquarters are located in Amegakure. Until you’ve proven your loyalty and we’re sure you haven’t been sent as a spy, you’ll function as a contracted third party. Your orders will come to you via summon, and you’ll be expected to destroy them right after. Standard ANBU protocol. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

ANBU protocol also likely extended to other facets of the organization: loyalty, for one. It wasn’t as closely binding as ANBU was, anyway. Every Akatsuki agent was disposable to the cause, just like in ANBU, every one bound without a code of honor, by a single unifying thread. Given how many criminals they accepted into their ranks, it was strange how lenient they were with admission, considering they were made up of a coalition of missing nin.

But that was probably because they could easily hunt down and kill anyone suspected of leaking information. 

Itachi had made himself very clear in the deal that Sasuke wasn’t to be involved in any of their dealings. Sasori had accepted his terms gracefully, and had debriefed him all in the same step.

“You’ll receive your orders next week. We’re looking at several more potential members, some of whom you’ll help retrieve.”

“I understand.”

Sasori nods, and his signature fades into the cold. 

Itachi hopes that he made the right decision.

They decide to stop at the next town over. 

The only inn looks far too expensive for them to afford, if the crows don’t clear the nearest jewelry store of all of their shiny wares, but the receptionist takes one look at them, inquires after their ages, and ushers them inside. 

Itachi spends the next day teaching Sasuke the basics of Raiton in the forest outside the town, away from prying eyes. They must already suspect that they were, or have the capabilities of, a Shinobi, but they haven’t been endangered yet. It’s risky to stay in any one town for too long, but with this one being as isolated as it is, they don’t have too much to worry about.

He picks it up easily, the simple jutsu converting chakra to crackling lightning. He smiles for the first time in a few days, watching the lightning crackle across the back of his hands, before having to stop.

“You should build up your chakra reserves.” Itachi says, and tilts his head. “You should be acquainted with weapons, too.” He pauses. “This region is famous for swordsmiths. Finding one shouldn’t be too hard, if you want to.”

He _does_ in fact want to, and Itachi commits himself to making good on his promise.

The kids are hurling snowballs at each other, wrapped in thick, colorful clothing. The crows perched on Sasuke’s shoulders watch curiously, dark eyes studying the scene with far too much intelligence for any normal animal. Itachi had talked about getting him on the contract with the crows. Everyone back in the Uchiha compound had summons, whether personal or not. The cats were everyone’s summons.

He’ll probably see that again, but he needs to make peace with that soon.

“Do you want to play with them?” Itachi asks, coming back from his trip to the store. They leave tomorrow to start the trip up through the mountains again, where they should cross paths with another travelling caravan. 

He shakes his head shortly.

The crow on his shoulder caws, and spreads its wings, nearly knocking him over. It hops into the air and glides down towards them, pulling on a girl’s scarf while she shrieks with laughter.

“They do.”

Itachi smiles wanly and shakes his head. “Shisui’s bad influence.”

He kicks at the snow. It’s about what he expected it to be, but it seems strange, compared to the brilliant colors Konoha boasted year round. Redwood forests and brightly colored flowers, rich browns and blue waterfalls exchanged for a blanket of winter, muffling everything so the only spot of color on the countryside was the soldiering green of pine trees and the dark rock where it crept past the coat of snow the mountains wore. 

It’s not a bad change. He probably never would’ve seen snow, otherwise.

“I asked around about a swordsmith. We might not be able to stop, so you’ll need something commissioned beforehand.”

Sasuke hums, and waves his hand at the crows. One comes gliding back to land on his outstretched palm. They’re always heavier than he assumes them to be, but never enough to knock him off balance.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Mhm.”

Mountain travelling is superior to traveling through Kusagakure if only for one reason: the heat. Dry heat didn’t bother him so much, coming from Konoha, but muggy heat, thick with moisture, made him feel like he was wearing a second skin of sweat.

Itachi asks to hear about the mythology he was learning with Hitomi while they walk, probably to fill the silence. Walking through the cold gets monotonous, as the mind wanders and disassociates. Sleeping on your feet. 

So he talks about the dragons of old: Amaterasu, a dragon made of midnight scales, a wreath of black fire around her head, and her descendants, and what he learned about the storm god Susano, with an arrow of lightning that called forth a siege of thunder, Tsukuyomi, goddess of premonition and dreams. 

Eventually they end up at the end of the road. An outpost that isn’t much more than a bench with a wooden overhang to protect from the elements, and a sign indicating how far away each town was, and, just as Sasori had said, a hawk waits for them with a scroll tied around its leg. 

Sasuke sits on the bench as Itachi reads it and sets it on fire, waiting for it to fizzle out as it falls into the cold snow. The hawk takes off in a blur of wite and brown feathers, disappearing over the tall mountain peaks in the distance.

“What’d it say?”

“Land of volcanoes.” Itachi replies.

“Where is it?”

“To the West. It’s a region of mountains that used to be volcanic. I’ve only been there once before, and it was for a tracking mission.”

Sasuke slides off the bench. His fingers and face are getting numb, and dusk comes quicker here than it does back home - back in Konoha. If it gets dark and they’re still walking he’ll probably freeze to death.

“It’s warmer there.” Itachi says. “It isn’t so high in altitude.”

That’s good, because he lost feeling in his toes twenty minutes ago.

“We should hurry.”

They begin to walk again.

It’s completely by happenstance that they stumble across the ANBU agent.

Itachi is fairly sure he wasn’t even looking for them. The Western mountain range is notorious for criminal activity - rampant with theft and kekkei genkai trafficking, since it’s so hard to monitor anything in the mountain ranges. It gets too cold for prolonged searches unless the tracking team is incredibly precise and resourceful. 

It’s more likely that he was called on Iwa’s behalf to trace a certain criminal they know the whereabouts of. Itachi sincerely doubts that anyone knows they’re here.

But it doesn’t matter, because the ANBU agent is here, perched overhead in the rocks, and Itachi needs to kill him. 

He draws the sword from his shoulder just as he notices them. ANBU agents aren’t usually alone, and that doesn’t mean anything good for them. If Itachi lets him live, he’ll report their location back to the team. If he kills him, they’ll find the body and investigate. 

The man leaps, readying an earth-sign jutsu. 

A wall of earth erupts between him and Sasuke. Itachi leaps up, realizing two more have entered the fray. He slashes down with his sword behind him, cutting straight through the man’s shoulder.

“Sasuke!”

The one who has a grip on him probably wasn’t expecting the Raiton that coursed through him. Not nearly enough to injure, let alone incapacitate, but enough to startle him. 

Itachi takes the opportunity to exhale fire. Thick, billowing smoke rises from the earth, and he grabs Sasuke and jumps back. 

He doesn’t want to risk any of them getting away, or being found, so...

The Mangekyo whirls to life in his eyes, and black flames engulf the targets through the smoke. 

A trail of blood drips down his face, and he calls it off just in time to know with certainty that there’d be nothing but ash for anyone to find. 

He looks down at Sasuke, wiping the blood off his face. “Are you alright?”

The second tomoe in his left eye spins. 

“... fine.”

He wipes his face again, staining the sleeve of his jacket, and takes a deep breath, before turning him away. “We need to go.”

They need to be more careful in the future. Obviously, the precautions they’d already been taking aren’t enough. He hadn't anticipated any of Konoha’s reach this far out in Iwa, but he should have, and he can’t make that mistake again. 

They continue, significantly more uneasy about their journey than they had been before, but Sasuke’s tense silence has been exchanged for a more thoughtful one, so whatever he had been thinking about (Itachi hopes it wasn’t Shisui) has already fled.

The landscape is interesting enough to distract him, and Itachi isn’t about to bring it back up now.

The land here is flat, a crater leveled hundreds of years ago by the last volcanic eruption the dormant volcano in the distance ever had. The dirt is soft, pieces of igneous rock sticking out from the dark earth.

“What did you do, back there?”

Itachi is quiet for a minute. “It’s called Amaterasu. A power of the Mangekyo, the last stage of the Sharingan. I only awoke it a month ago, after Shisui…” He trails off. 

“It made your eyes bleed.”

“I can only use it sparingly, or I’ll go blind.”

Sasuke winces, and Itachi wishes he weren’t so bad at this, and Sasuke keeps kicking the rocks out of the way. 

The silence persists a little longer, neither unwilling to break it, before Sasuke finally speaks up again, this time to change the subject. It should probably worry him, the sudden, uncharacteristic bouts of silence. Is that normal? Should he be worried? There are so many things to be concerned about Itachi can’t handle them all at the same time.

“What are you looking for?”

“A potential new recruit.” He glances at the distance, a little blurred around the edges. “Sasori should be there already.”

This town is livelier than any of the ones they stayed in previously, without the threat of hypothermia hanging over their heads should they choose to venture outside and into the elements. The streets are lined with colorful ceramic vases, the likes of which Sasuke probably would’ve learned to make (or at least attempted to make) should he have stayed in the village, painted blue and green. 

He doesn’t see Sasori immediately, but an old woman in a rocking chair notices their approach and gives them a strange look. 

“I’m going to find-”

“Isn’t that him?” Sasuke points to the rather conspicuous figure leaning against the wall of a building, just well enough hidden in the shadows that he’s difficult to spot initially. 

Itachi nods. “I’ll go talk to him.”

The target in question appears to be a man named Kakuzu, who also appears to be immortal and over a hundred years old, apparently.

Itachi knows better than to question that.

They’ve been staking him out for awhile, but he seemed more interested in pursuing financial options than anything else. He’s only here because a client with the ability to sense precious metals and singlehandedly usurp the Iwa economy only does business in places that authorities can’t find her. A show of force and intimidation along with their proposition is the best chance they'll have at recruiting him, and Itachi is their unlucky choice. 

He leaves Sasuke to sit on the bench with the crows, cautiously watching the natives mill about the roads. 

“Are you ready?”

Itachi nods, and they step towards the entrance, before the foundation walls shudder. He glances at Sasori.

“He’s known for his temper.” Sasori says, unperturbed. “When business deals don’t go his way, he’s got a habit of tearing apart the competition. Literally.” He snorts. “Oh, here he comes.”

The door opens with enough force to rip it from its hinges, and a man that can only be Kakuzu, steps out of the porch.

Drenched in blood. 

Well, Itachi isn't exactly sure what he expected.

"You again." Kakuzu growls. "Back to waste my time?"

"Kakuzu." Sasori greets, more energized than he was five seconds ago, and with more than a hard edge of spiteful glee in his voice. "You've thought about our offer?"

"You want to know what I think about your offer?" He growls. 

Itachi jumps back before the chakra crackles in the air and the threads start breaking from his skin, dripping blood. The few people still on the streets shriek and run. He can feel the crows panicking at the edge of his consciousness. 

What a _wonderful_ start to the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy this update wasn't supposed to take as long as it did. My brain just like... stopped producing serotonin for a second there. 
> 
> I have no idea what order the Akatsuki joined but I can probably safely say I'm gonna switch it around for plot convenience. I know that Hidan joined last because Kakuzu was already there and Deidara also started like before that, but definitely after Itachi, idk if Kisame joined before or after Kisame though, I have no concept of a timeline of events for this show
> 
> Also like? I know this is a weird question but like....... people can just produce water right? For water jutsu? Is it salt or fresh water? Like there's literally no reason for me to be asking this question but here I am. Also if certain chakra natures are localized (more earth natures in Iwa) how would Iwa's economy work? Because if anyone can dig precious metals out of the ground bc they can just bend the earth wouldn't that like... tank the economy. And also?? If they move the earth who moves it back?? Is Iwa's landscape just decades of accidental terriforming? My 3am thoughts want to know


	4. Chapter 4

Itachi may have underestimated Kakuzu, just a little.

In his defense, he’s more preoccupied with getting Sasuke away from the epicenter of the fight. Conveying that to the crows had gotten them to do little but tug at his shirt and guide him behind the nearest building for shelter, which isn’t _quite_ what he meant by that, and the fact that Kakuzu does not look like the type to be fast. 

He also doesn’t appear to be his hundred-something years, which is equally jarring.

“Look out.” Sasori instructs, bland and dry as the desert he comes from. “That mask breathes-”

A pillar of flame erupts just over his shoulder. He ducks well in time to avoid it, but he turns to narrow his eyes at Sasori, who seems to be getting some sort of amusement out of this. He has to wonder how many times this has happened before, because they clearly know each other from a previous engagement. 

“-fire.”

Sasori is, of course, not much help. It occurs to him that he’s probably being tested right now, and so is Kakuzu. Best if he wraps things up quickly, then.

Overtaxing on the Mangekyo certainly isn’t something he should make a habit of doing, but, in this situation, there’s little else he can try.

The Sharingan clamps down on his ocular nerves, and the amalgamation of buildings around them become drenched in blood. The Mangekyo whirls to life with blistering pain and Kakuzu freezes as they lock eyes.

Tsukuyomi is something he hasn’t had the luxury of trying many times before. Genjutsu has always been a specialty of his - easy to fold threads of reality together into a thickly-woven braid, interlocking aspects of the surrounding world into one another, until they couldn’t be distinguished. A trick of the eyes, the slight of the hand; Itachi’s talents have always laid in these, the true heart of the Shinobi. But genjutsu is for more than just parlor tricks.

He constructs the world in a sea of blood that settles beneath his feet. He ties the orange glow of flickering kerosene lamps into the amber hue of the sky. The crows settled on Sasuke’s shoulders lend him their wings. 

“The fuck is this?” Kakuzu grunts, turning narrowed eyes toward him. The only way to break the genjutsu is to find its weakest link and break it; this is why Itachi is careful when he weaves them. Genjutsu is a difficult art to be taught because of the intuition needed to make one. Kurenai was his only competitor back in the village, skilled enough to wreck catastrophic damage on an enemy’s psyche. She was a valuable tool to T&I, and he had studied under her for a time when conceptualizing his magnum opus.

Little had he known then that it had required Shisui’s death to ever achieve.

“A genjutsu.” He replies. “Called Tsukuyomi. There’s no escape.”

No internal escape, anyways. Not for anyone but him. All the links were on the outside, real lanterns and clouds and termite-bitten wood. The terrifying reality of genjutsu is its ability to bend perception. Itachi has only changed things slightly, and lets Kakuzu do the rest of the work for him.

Beneath his covering, Kakuzu bares his teeth. “What’s he paying you for this, kid?”

“Something more valuable.” Itachi says. “In the form of sanctuary.”

Kakuzu scoffs. “In this world nothing is more valuable than money.”

“I won’t let you escape until you’ve agreed to the Akatsuki’s terms.”

Kakuzu sits in the bloody water. Ocean water, filled with salt. “Is that so? Can your eyes last that long?”

“Your will will break long before my eyes give out. I can make your stay more unpleasant, if you wish.”

Kurenai had specialized in interrogation. She’d passed some of that knowledge onto him. Itachi certainly _could_ make him suffer if he was so inclined. At the moment, he isn't. In the future, though… well, he isn’t sure how long it will take for his patience to wane.

Kakuzu sneers. “And waste more of my time? I’ll talk to him. Let me out.”

“Hmm.” That isn’t satisfying enough. There’s no proof that he won’t turn around and stab them in the back. “Why change your mind?”

“You think I don’t know about the Mangekyo?”

“... most don’t.”

He laughs. “I come from long before your time, Uchiha. I know better than to go against your kind.”

_‘Your kind’_ sours in his gut, and he unwinds the genjutsu himself. By the time he’s piecing reality back together, Sasuke has ventured closer to the battle than he would’ve preferred, and Sasori is sitting on the curb looking for all the world like an interested passerby. 

“So, you’re done?” He drawls. 

Itachi suppresses the urge to stick a kunai in his throat.

“Yes.” He replies, flat, and turns irritably to Sasuke. “I told you to wait back there.”

Sasuke doesn’t look particularly contrite. Instead, he parades the crows on his shoulders. “They were upset.”

“You could tell?”

“You can’t?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. They only share that with…”

Him and Shisui, when they were on the same contract. _Contract_ might be generous, considering no physical contract exists. The crows are more picky about their summoner in that way. No blood binding them, no paper necessary to call them forth. Not belonging to any forest or cave, unlike Orochimaru’s snakes or Jiraiya’s toads, they simply existed where they needed to be. A sacrifice worthy of their service. 

Whatever. He can think more on that later.

“Your eyes are bleeding again.” Sasuke points out. “That’s probably why, stupid.”

He wipes at his face. “Don’t call people stupid.”

“You’re _recruiting people_ to the _Akatsuki.”_

Itachi pokes him. “Yes, and that doesn’t concern you.”

“Are you two done?” Sasori calls. “If so, then get over here.”

Sasuke trails behind him curiously as they walk. 

“We’ve secured his allegiance.”

Kakuzu hasn’t stopped glowering. He’s still covered in blood, Itachi doesn’t want to know who’s. “You’ve hardly left me much of a choice, what with this brat.” He jerks his chin Itachi’s way. “Where’d you find Uchiha hellspawn?”

“Defectors.” Sasori says, much too flippant for the topic of the conversation. But maybe Suna people are just like that - as unbothered by the tide of a conversation as they were the changes in the wind. “Valuable assets.”

Sasuke peaks out of his shadow. “He doesn’t look a hundred.”

Kakuzu glares down at him. “And you don’t look like a missing nin.”

“He isn’t.” Itachi cuts in. “Leave him out of this.”

“The two of you are a waste of my time.” He spits. “Get out of my way.”

“Mm.” Sasori says. “Follow your orders, or we’ll kill you.”

Kakuzu scoffs, disgusted.

Itachi rubs the singed edge of his sleeve between his thumb and finger. 

“Itachi?”

He sighs. “Let’s go find the outpost.”

They can hardly stick around for long. Considering Itachi prefers to stay low (difficult, considering Sasori’s dragging around a fifteen foot long scorpion tail and Kakuzu is a six foot tall man with glowing green eyes, they’re not exactly what he would call _subtle)_ it would be best if they could leave the town as soon as possible, but an Iwa ANBU team has chosen the most inconvenient time to descend from the mountains and patrol.

Kakuzu, if nothing else, seems grudgingly respectful of the crows (if only for their thieving nature).

He stays on the sidelines, standing in the shadow of the nearest building. Kakuzu either doesn’t notice him glaring or doesn’t care. He’s leaning towards the latter.

Sasuke comes back looking reasonably cheerful.

“What did you talk about?”

Sasuke shrugs. And then, “What’s tax fraud?”

Itachi makes a mental note to limit his time around Kakuzu.

Everyone is, understandably, terrified of them. Crows are an omen of death, here (and really, considering their affiliation with Itachi, they might as well be), and everyone steers clear of them. Itachi only wants to stick around long enough to get summoning paper and ink. It’s tradition that every Uchiha receive a summon. Usually that was easy enough, given the clan’s contract with the cats. But, well, they don’t have the cats anymore.

“Summons?” Sasuke asks, peering over his shoulder. “Have any contracts been offered?”

“Not exactly.”

Some clans, like the Hatake, had a natural predisposition towards summons. It was said that they could press their hand to summoning paper and the summon most befitting them would appear, ready to make a contract. It’s probably an overblown rumor, but he never got a chance to ask Kakashi, and now he probably never will.

Sasuke keeps his blistering curiosity tucked beneath his tongue. One particularly adventurous crow dips a talon in the ink canister and presses it against the paper, leaving behind a ghostly imprint. 

“The crows don’t have a contract.”

“Then how did you get them?”

The crow looks at him with glittering eyes and flaps its wings, trotting happily across his perfectly arranged symbols and leaving a crossroads of marching footprints.

“Put your hand there. I want to see if you’re compatible.”

When he does, the crow bursts into smoke and reappears on his shoulder, keening.

Well, that answers that question.

The _how_ might be a little more difficult to piece together, though. He’d always thought the crow’s allegiance went further than him, and extended, at least in part, to protect his family, particularly Shisui and Sasuke. Either the extension of his will, to protect Sasuke, had appeared to them as _serve him as they do you._ He wouldn’t exactly put it past them. 

“They’re… my summons to?”

“They’ll respond to you.” Itachi replies. “... did you ask them to steal?”

“I didn’t.” He replies, turning to look at the crow. “Yoru did that himself.”

“You named it?”

“You didn’t?”

Itachi rolls his eyes. “We’re wasting time here. We have to go meet up with Sasori.”

Yoru the crow flaps his wings indignantly, and makes for the smithery. 

“Adjust your index finger.”

Itachi moves his hands to demonstrate the way the sign looks. Modified hand to hand combat has, so far, yielded some satisfactory results. Sasuke is more creative with his jutsu than he gave him credit for, especially when it comes to the lightning. They’re limited to taijutsu for now, considering they don’t want to draw the attention of anyone in the surrounding area, but the occasional burst of lightning doesn’t hurt.

Sasuke ducks under his kick, faster this time. Itachi sees the Raiton coming, but he’s more impressed with the speed with which he infused his attacks with it than he is surprised.

“You’re getting better.” He says, sitting against the rock.

Sasuke frowns. “I can keep going.”

“Are you alright?”

His frown deepens. “What do you mean?”

Itachi curses his inability to say anything meaningful. Shisui hadn't been wrong when he said that Itachi lacked social finesse. Between the two of them, Sasuke had been granted all the social skills in the family, taking after Mother while he took after Father. Shisui liked to say it was probably because he was introduced to the war so young, but what did he know?

“This.” He says. Sasuke glares. “What?” 

“For bringing you out here.”

Sasuke huffs. Itachi wonders if he knows he creates static when he does it. “I already said I wasn’t mad at you. Over and over again.”

And that isn’t doing much to actually convince him.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Sasuke looks up into the trees instead, like he’s afraid Itachi will read his intentions. As if Itachi is the one who would pick up on those social cues. 

This forest is full of silkworms. It’s where the region got its name. The cocoons haven’t been harvested yet, but they’ve passed through at least three modernizing towns filled with metamorphosing caterpillars and white larvae. 

“It’s fine.” He settles on eventually. His mouth twists. “Why - why aren’t you angry?”

That… wasn’t what he was expecting.

“What do you mean?”

“You-” His voice, too young for this, snags on chest-deep anger. “You keep _saying_ that Danzo killed him, and that he did it because he wanted Shisui’s eyes and-” His voice lowers. _“My_ eyes, but why were you working with him at all? If you knew that he was - that he- _hated_ us. And why didn’t anyone do anything after he - not even Mom. Danzo killed him, so _why-?”_

Itachi doesn’t know how to explain to him that it’s not that simple, and he’s put off confronting his own cognitive dissonance as long as he possibly could.

“I-” He falters. What is he supposed to say? That he considered killing his clan? Should he admit to considering the _genocide_ of his _eight year old brother’s family?_ He’s not sure Sasuke would ever forgive him, or if he even should. And that gets tangled back into why Danzo would even suggest it in the first place, despite knowing that there were other options, and that the village let him.

It was harder to deny it, now that they were away, allying themselves with the enemies of the Shinobi system as a whole. Easy to deny when Danzo’s claws were digging into him, and Shisui’s subtle half-smiles weren’t enough to keep the monster at his back away, easy in the face of the village’s careless affirmation of what Danzo was doing. It was easy to live the lie of complacency when you didn’t have to confront that the Hyuga had their curse mark, and that the villages didn’t benefit from the social unrest in the Land of Waves, and that the Uchiha had been segregated away from the village.

And for a moment he’s _angry._ At Sasuke, for asking the question in the first place, at himself for not being able to answer it, at Shisui for dying and dragging them all into this mess, angry and guilty for even daring to _think_ that. 

He draws in a sharp breath and pretends his hands aren’t shaking. “I didn’t know what he was planning.”

_That’s a lie,_ Shisui’s voice says. _A good liar needs to convince himself before he can convince anyone else._

“I… I didn’t know that he was going to kill Shisui. I thought… that he had the village’s best intention in mind.”

“It was in their ‘best intention’ to _kill_ him?”

(Shisui grabs his shoulders. “C’mon ‘tachi.” He says it with such aching compassion that it hurts to even think about. “He wants you to _kill_ them? C'mon, you don’t have to do that. My plan is better.”)

“No.” He hangs his head and looks at the ground. The air smells like thunder. “He didn’t deserve to die.”

“But how could the village-”

“It didn’t have anything to do with that.” He says sharply.

“Then why couldn’t we have stayed?” Sasuke demands. “I’m not _stupid._ If the village cared then we wouldn’t have to leave-!”

“Danzo holds power. He’s a member of the Council - the Sandaime listens to him. And if Danzo said he wasn’t guilty, then he wasn’t guilty. No matter what evidence we had. _That’s_ why we had to leave.”

Or, so he tells himself.

Sasuke doesn’t look any better. He looks more unhappy, if he were to try and guess. 

He brushes a hand through his hair. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

Shikamaru’s suspicions are neither denied nor confirmed by the end of the month.

Investigation is difficult when you don’t have the clearance to do anything. Being the son of the clan head gets him some leeway, but not much.

The Uchiha representatives are missing from this week’s clan meeting. The Hyuga are quick to call out their negligence, and his father is quick to remind them that they’d have commented on their heartlessness had they come instead of mourning their children.

The Uchiha mourn for a long time. It really makes the ‘curse of hatred’ joke circulating the playground tactless. 

If Shikamaru wasn’t a dropout-mentality, he might’ve done something about it. Luckily for him, Ino was more than happy enough to punch Kiba in the face. With some prompting, of course, but who thought that would have been meek little Sakura. 

He tugs his father’s coat when the chatter dies down. “How long do we have to be there?”

Shikaku plops a scarred hand down on his head. “Soon, Shikamaru. Don’t be so impatient.”

“Mm.” Shikamaru says. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Shikaku raises an eyebrow, clearly seeing through his not-well executed lie. “Of course. Just get back before your mother notices.”

Escaping from mandated parties with your parent’s friends (and political enemies, he supposes), isn’t exactly behavior that a clan heir should be participating in, but he can’t quite bring himself to care. The air on the roof is cleaner and thinner than the hot, loud atmosphere of the party. It helps that Choji got the same idea to bail on the gathering, which also wasn’t like him, because between the two of them he was easily the more extroverted one.

“Do you ever think the village is… suspicious?” Shikamaru asks.

“Suspicious how?” Choji replies. He’s flat on his back, staring up at the clouds, a silhouette of liquid gold tracing their movement. 

Well, Shikamaru is privilege to certain things that other, civilian kids, aren’t. Growing up so close to ANBU has definitely influenced that (Ino likes to parrot words she doesn’t quite understand yet that her father likes to use - _psychologically impaired_ is one of her favorites. That, and _emotionally stunted._ She throws that one in his face a lot). He has the ability to see all of Konoha’s teeth, and become acquainted with them. All the ANBU kids are like that.

“You don’t think any of this is weird?”

Choji makes his best attempt at a shrug. “I dunno. I haven’t really thought about it.”

Shikamaru huffs. He’s smarter than everyone he needs information from.

He cranes his head. “Do _you_ think something weird is going on?”

Shikamaru lets the silence speak for him.

“Oh.” Choji says lamely. “Well, the Uchiha clan is still in Konoha though, right? They wouldn’t do anything to citizens.”

Sasuke was eight. A citizen by any terms. 

The quiet grows more uneasy. 

“I mean,” Choji laughs, a little uncomfortable. “You don’t really think they’d do that, right?”

Shikamaru hunches over his knees. His father doesn’t mean to, he knows, but you hear things, sometimes. Things that… don’t sit quite right. ANBU things. _Disposal_ things. 

This wasn’t nearly as relaxing or clarifying as he wanted it to be.

“My Mom’s gonna be upset if I don’t go back in soon.” He says, and stands up, offering Choji a hand. Neither of them say anything for the rest of the meeting.

Eventually, Itachi makes good on his promise to get him a sword. As a sort of… consolation, he supposes, for the disastrous conversation three days ago. The lady behind the counter gives him a strange look when he explains the height measurements to her. Giving weapons to ones so young probably seems unconventional to those outside direct influence from the villages. 

Yoru the crow turns out to be a stunning conversationalist. Not that anyone seems to know what he’s trying to communicate, since the crows communicate information visually rather than verbally. It must be as much jargon to Sasuke as it is to him, because he never makes an effort to translate.

But it must be entertaining, or Sasuke has a very active imagination, because when he leaves him outside for the consultation he’s sitting in the same spot, with no new stolen valuables to boot.

“I’ve commissioned you a sword.” He says, sitting down next to him.

“You’re not making it, right?”

“... Shisui told you about that.”

Sasuke’s grin speaks for itself. 

“She’s modifying one that’s close to your measurements. Then we’ll leave for the Land of Waves.”

“Is it that long a trip?”

“We have to cross half a continent.” He replies, and glances behind them at the mountain ridges. Iwa has been, so far, very good for hiding from any scrutinizing eye. Some have probably been suspicious of them, at least, but forgoing the cloud-patterned Akatsuki cloak for casual travel and keeping his hitai-ate tucked away in his bag. Without that affiliation, and with their age, it was easy to pass off the refugee story fairly easily, and there were enough ambiguous ethnic groups belonging to the mountains that they weren’t received strangely.

They were technically _from_ here. Itachi is pretty sure there's ancient burial grounds scattered somewhere in the northeastern mountain ranges. 

“Okay.” Sasuke says.

The constant travelling doesn’t seem to bother him. They never stay in any one place for more than a week, but Sasuke has been consistently captivated by mountain ranges and ocean views alike. He would have done fine as an ANBU agent, but Itachi tries not to think about that. 

They haven’t talked about the incident since, and Itachi will deny feeling worried about it to his grave.

Yori hops out of the underbrush with another twig in his mouth, presumably to add to the literal bird's nest that is Sasuke’s hair. Any attempts to coerce him into brushing it were skillfully evaded. 

“It’s getting too tangled.” Itachi remarks. “You should cut it.”

Sasuke bats his hand away and jumps to his feet. Yoru caws. 

“How soon can we leave?”

The coast off the Land of Rivers is full of white, sun-bleached sand, lush with green wildlife and diverse animal life. The perfect tourist destination, if you were willing to forgive the fequent epidemics. Instead of the silverback fish he’s used to darting about the riverbeds, these waters are cold and full of long, slippery eels. Not electric, in these parts, but it never hurt to make sure.

“Is this the first time you’ve seen the ocean?”

Konoha is rich with waterfalls and lakes, but buried in the heart of the region, there was little access to the ocean. It was accessible by following a long string of rivers and ports to the coast, but Sasuke had never seen it before.

He sits cross legged on the sand, looking out at the shifting waters, and shakes his head. Probably horrifically cold, despite the welcoming temperatures. 

“When is the boat supposed to get here?”

“Soon.”

The one good thing about the Land of Waves was the ease at which one could illegally cross the border. One of the drug lords controlled the movement in and out of the island and made it especially easy for missing nin to hire impoverished fishermen to boat them in. Missing nin were good for dirty mercenary work, after all.

Sasuke gives up on his patience twenty minutes in. Itachi eventually succumbs and sits in the sand, while Sasuke wades through the water and lifts a green piece of seaglass out of the sand that the crows ferry off immediately after catching its glint in the sun.

“Isn’t the water cold?”

Sasuke kicks some water at him, and grins. “What do you think?”

Itachi huffs a laugh, and Sasuke yells at Yoru for stealing his shell.

He glances over at the horizon. “The boat is here.”

The Land of Waves is generally a place to be avoided, even by the most skilled ANBU. Known as a hotspot for criminal activity and a congregation for missing nin. After Konoha had stepped in to quell a military coup brewing on the island’s East Coast, a power vacuum had formed, leaving the position up for grabs. Konoha paid missing nin to plant gang leaders like Gato on the island to prevent it from ever gaining economic dependence or freeing itself from Konoha’s military rule. 

It’s another thing he wished he didn’t know about Konoha. 

The state of the island isn’t faring well, either. Crushed by poverty, most houses were no more then old driftwood sinking into the ground. The culture around fishing was more a lifestyle than it was a profession, with little else to rely on. Gato’s gang that runs this section of the island is also notorious for kekkei genkai trafficking. 

Sasuke stares at the sideways houses and the beggars on the street, arranged on thin mats to protect their knees from the rocky gravel. Most of them were children or the elderly, unable to work. 

“Be careful.” He warns, stepping closer to him. Sasori hadn't given an exact location for where they were supposed to pick up their orders. 

The crowd surges around them, trudging on like prisoners to the gallows, as if they couldn’t muster the energy to do anything else. He bumps shoulders with strangers, shoved around by the crowd, feet kicking ankles. In the passing of people through the narrow street, Itachi jolts with sudden panic as the crows react. One materializes on his shoulder with a loud shriek that startles the people next to him.

“Sasuke?”

He whirls around to look for his brother, for retreating steps, for the shape of the crows, and finds nothing. 

“Sasuke!”

The people part around him like a rock in the river. Itachi’s heart sinks into his stomach. 

His brother is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is HERE 
> 
> I'm sorry this took so ridiculously long. I've just had a lot to do and words... weren't happening. I want to say something inspiring made me write but actually it was because my friend reminded me that Hidan weighs like 120 pounds.... like is he hollow? Did Kakuzu sell his organs on the black market? Like they're just canonically so confusing and chaotic I was filled with the urge to write. 
> 
> Also: I technically have a tumblr now. Is that something anyone would be interested in? pls consider tho: I have no idea how to use tumblr. 
> 
> Okay thanks for reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5

Sasuke’s crow is screeching. 

Itachi turns in a circle, his heart thundering against his ribs. How could he be so stupid? The Land of Waves was notorious for being a hub for criminal activity, notorious for its hand in trafficking, he should’ve known not to take his eyes off of him-

The crow screams again, ink-blot wings flapping as it darts over the crowd. 

A woman kneeling on a square of deftly-woven fabric offers him a pinched, sunburnt expression. “Boy, what are you looking for?”

“My brother - he-” The breath stops halfway out of his throat. How long had it been? They couldn’t have gotten far, but he didn’t know where to look and he couldn’t sense any trace of them-with so many people it was hard to make out anything. 

Her expression further sours. “This is a dangerous place for children.” She glances out of the corner of her eye at her surroundings. Everyone proceeds as they were, albeit startled. The crow had clearly unsettled them, whether it be for superstitious reasons or otherwise. “There’s a place, across the river. Gato’s subordinate runs it.”

He turns on his heel before he can think to thank her, pushing his way through the crowd and following Yoru’s presence ahead.

Mikoto is experienced enough in the field to recognize when she’s being watched.

The fine hair on the back of her neck stands on end. She stalls with the dishes in the sink, polishing the mug off with the dishrag longer than she needs to. The process is a lot quicker when there are only two sets of utensils to clean. Shiori is still outside, so this is clearly just that: watching. The clan meeting had worried the Council, she was sure, addicted to the illusion that they were still planning on going through with the coup. Spineless, the lot of them, so challenged by their demand for equality. If nothing else, it gave them a thin justification for doubling down on their surveillance efforts, as if they ever actually stopped.

After all, if they were as mutinous and traitorous as everyone feared, it was acceptable to preemptively suspect them of wrongdoing and justify ‘countermeasures’. 

People are afraid, and she can't even find it in herself to blame them. Aiko had to be ushered inside before she could share her concerns: most pressingly that ROOT was interfering again. Their renewed presence was unsettling at best, and indicative of Danzo's intentions at worst. To think that he could get away with using them to his own benefit, to think that the Hokage _let_ him, that he was _encouraging_ it, even, was chilling. Her sons had escaped their fate, sure, but that didn't guarantee the life of the next one. 

(Shisui of all people hadn't deserved death at the hands of his own village. His mother cried for hours, and Mikoto had no comfort to offer, because there was no way of preventing it in the future). 

She hums as she sets a kettle on the stove and waits for the water to boil. Fugaku is in the living room attending to his paperwork. He was nearly drowning in it now, having thrown himself headfirst into his work after the disappearance of their children. It really highlighted how much there was of it - certainly more than the meager amount of field work any of them were actually doing. 

The kettle whistles, disrupting her train of thought. 

“Fugaku, dear?” She pokes her head into the living room. His eyes dart up to look at her before returning to his paperwork. “I brought you tea.”

She sits across from him, one leg over the other. She should go over her forms in the dojo later, after she watered the plants. She thought it might be time to bring her blades out of retirement. Shiori, at least, might be intrigued by the change of pace. 

“The hydrangeas are coming up in the garden.” She says idly. Fugaku raises an eyebrow. “Speaking of the garden, Shiori seems to think we have visitors.”

“Again?”

“They’re quite thorough.” She smiles, a bit pinched. “They seem to think there’s something to report.” She gets up. “I’m gonna sit outside.”

She grabs her watering can and heads outside for the garden, aware of the probing eyes the entire time she does so.

“I’m pretty sure this is illegal.” Ino says, flipping through some of her father’s files. Just the written records of the ANBU psych evaluations, as far as he can tell. Inoichi wouldn’t be stupid as to leave actual mission reports out, but Ino’s thieving fingers were enough to get them this, at least. It had taken her brother’s interference and Shikamaru’s estimation of both the lock and when Inoichi would be away, but they got it. They could at least tell who was off-duty when Sasuke disappeared. “Really illegal.”

“You can’t be a Shinobi without getting your hands dirty.” Shikamaru replies. Two strikes against Kakashi, but he’s not sure what they indicate. Were they suspension counts? Misdemeanors? The file was unfortunately bare, most of it redacted, and what did exist was… less than clarifying.

“Half the conversation is blacked out.” She sighs. “How are we supposed to get anything from this? Most of these sentences don't even make any sense!”

Shikamaru taps his finger on his leg thoughtfully. “This is confirmation that Kakashi is involved, at least.” _And so was the Council. They wouldn't be mentioned otherwise_.

Ino shrugs. “I don’t even know the guy. He’s, like, that war legend, isn’t he? With the Sharingan?”

“That’s him. I don’t know why he'd be suspected of anything. He’s ANBU captain. You can’t just… accuse them of something.” Not without proper evidence, anyways, and if he really had been implicated, there’d be public outcry, at least, and an investigation would’ve already happened. “The times aren’t right here, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“This says the scheduling was mixed up at twenty-four and one hundred. But ANBU doesn’t have jurisdiction over the gate, the Chunin guards do, and the only way they could’ve gotten out was when they were changing the guard, which isn’t until two.”

Ino frowns. “So what do you think happened?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

She huffs. “Not everyone can be a genius.”

“Either someone changed the times or Kakashi _lied.”_

“Why would he lie?” 

They’re interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. Ren pokes his face into the room. “Time to go, brats. Dad gets home in twenty minutes and you need to rearrange everything exactly the way it is.”

“Okay, we’re going.” Ino dusts herself off, starting to stack the binders back where they belong, arranged chronologically. Shikamaru eyes the labels on the binders. He’s seen that date, he’s pretty sure. Before he can chase that lead down any further, Ino snaps at him to keep cleaning up. 

“Okay, _okay.”_

Lord Danzo’s office is always dark. 

Newly christened Sai (before that, Taiyo, Daichi, Hideki, Katsu, and always, Owl) stands before the door, waiting for the signal to enter. It might be so dark because Danzo is training with the Sharingan again (the ones on his arms are grotesque and unsightly, but it’s not his place to say so). They glow faintly through the bandages wrapped around his arms. 'Stifling' and 'overbearing' were other descriptors he might use, if Sai were supposed to feel things. It's easy to be a tool, Sai thinks, even if he is only an extension of the village's will, an extension of Danzo's will. 

(There is wry humor there, and he wants to smile, only his mask is strapped to his belt, because you are never to wear your mask into his office, and it strips him of his physical barrier of anonymity. It is easy to pretend not to be human when wearing the wooden face of an animal). 

“You may enter.”

Lynx shuffles behind him. He opens the door.

Lord Danzo doesn’t spare them more than a glance as he finishes his work.

“Your report?”

He smiles without weight or meaning. It unsettles the very few people he's ever been exposed to. He'd really like to put his mask back on, now. “The Uchiha are complacent. The clan meeting was nothing more than a formality practiced in their funeral traditions. No activity regarding a coup was recorded, and Agent Hatake hasn't returned to the compound since the initial visit. We have no reason to suspect they're planning another uprising.” He pauses. "The police department also appears to be overwhelmed. The change in field has been doing it's job." Better to keep them busy, loading all the complaints onto them so T&I could chase itself in circles trying to figure out what was going on with Itachi. 

“And the children?”

“The Nara clan heir seems to have a cursory understanding of what’s going on, and has the Yamanaka girl as an ally.”

“Hm.” He makes another mark. “I take it that you’ll see to the situation?”

“Yes sir.” He pauses. “I’m not expected to dispose of them, am I?”

“We have enough attention on us already. Killing either clan heir would be suspicious, don't you think? Redirect them. I don’t care how you do it, as long as you don’t garner any suspicion.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Sai places the mask back on his face and leaves.

“Hey, guys.”

Sakura throws the ball a little too hard and Shikamaru misses it. It bounces out of the chalk square and hits Kiba in the face. She gasps behind her hands. 

“Was that guard there yesterday?” Ino frowns up at the roof. Shikamaru turns, shielding his eyes from the sun, and, sure enough, there’s a shadowy guard standing there, decked in ANBU gear. Because of the mask, it's difficult to tell whether they're watching them or not. The hollow eyes of the mask stare back at him, and it churns uncomfortably in his stomach. A new security issue? But what would require the presence of ANBU?

“... no.”

“Is this like the ‘cleaning’ again?” Sakura whispers, and catches the ball that Kiba throws back at her. 

“Not unless someone else went missing.”

Both of them grimace.

“So then what…?”

Shikamaru doesn’t know, and he doesn’t like it.

Shikaku drags a hand over his face and laments the fact that his wife threw out his secret box of cigarettes this morning.

“You should’ve hid it better, then.” Inoichi grins. “It can’t have been that hard to find.”

He rolls his eyes. “You clearly don’t know my wife.” 

He leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “You heard the message from the Council?”

Inoichi’s expression sobers. “Yeah. It’s… less than encouraging. I was hoping that they’d lay off the surveillance but it seems like it’s getting worse. If they mean to diffuse the tension, they're doing a terrible job of it."

Anyone even peripherally aware of ROOT was uncomfortable with it. As much as Shikaku loathed to admit it, it seemed more to him like Danzo was actively trying to stir up tension and polarize the village. Signalling out the Uchiha was the easy part. The constant surveillance and ANBU presence around the compound only served to cement the public's prejudices, and fanned them accordingly. It seemed too... calculated. He would bring it up to the Hokage if his board of advisors weren't the perpetrators. 

“ROOT's coming out of the wood works.” ROOT, which didn’t answer to the Hokage, that could act against the Hokage’s wishes. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like the fact that it exists.” Inoichi replies. “We already have ANBU. Danzo just wants an army that answers to him.” _And a way to kidnap Uchiha kids._ “But the fact that he’s getting more active with it is… troubling.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I hope we’re wrong.”

“You weren’t at the meeting spot.” Sasori says, perfectly calm, as if Sasuke isn’t missing. “So I came to find you. I hope you have a good reason for making me come out after you.”

Itachi grits his teeth and tries not to bristle. “My brother is gone. I’m going to find him. Your mission is going to have to wait.”

Sasori hums. “It’s rather time sensitive.”

Itachi keeps walking, back turned but well aware of the threat walking on his heels. “I don’t care.”

“Oh? You’d defy direct orders?”

And he’d do it again for less.

“Are you surprised?” He pitches his voice low. Cold. Slips back into his ANBU facade. “I am a defector.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be, then. If we find your brother, you’ll complete the mission?”

“Yes.”

“And if we don’t?”

_I’ll kill you._

He doesn’t have to say it to convey the sentiment. Sasori picks up on it regardless. 

Sasori hops soundlessly after him. “Then I should tell you about the ring on the other side of the river. But you already know about that, right?”

“Only that it exists.”

“Run of the mill kekkei-genkai trafficking. Your brother looks about as stereotypical Uchiha as they come. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

“Not all Uchiha have the Sharingan.”

“No, but it’s worth it to see if they do. Or, sometimes the stress awakens it, so in the act of taking them they assure their capture. Anyways,” He sighs airily. Itachi wants to smash his face in on the curb. “Even if he’s not here anymore, we can probably find him. The Akatsuki has a stake in them.”

Itachi works his jaw. It’s not a surprise, really, even Konoha has its fingers in deeds like this, but it had always been detached. Separate. “Who’s your link?”

“Orochimaru. He’s more of a pseudo-member. More valuable for his knowledge than his strength. I hear he’s in the store for a new body.” He waves his hand. “This one has ties in Otogakure. Konoha likes this one, so it doesn’t do anything about it, of course.”

“Konoha-”

“Didn’t you know, little ANBU? I figured you just didn’t care. Most people don’t.”

“The village still has ties to the Sannin?”

“Of course. To cut off a wealth of knowledge like that? The villages are nothing if not commercially efficient. Brutally so. But that doesn’t matter much. The snake’s research is useful. So the Council allows him to live. And so do we.”

“That’s-” _ridiculous. Impossible._ A missing nin that they were benefiting from? One as infamous as Orochimaru? Konoha had pushed the danger of missing nin to its extreme. Anyone who would do something so horrible as to denounce their village and throw away its hospitality was less than human. But it... it made sense, nauseating sense. The will of fire didn’t care that he was a criminal and didn’t care what ethical boundaries he crossed because he was useful, and that was all that had ever mattered, hadn't it? Maybe that was why Danzo was so willing to toss Shisui away like a rusted tool after he stopped agreeing with him, maybe that was why he was so insistent that Itachi could go through with the massacre so that he, too, could be discarded-

_Stop it._ He focuses on the path. _He’s trying to get under your skin._

He’s a bit angry that it’s working.

“Your point?”

“Oh, there is none. Their base is up ahead.”

Itachi glares over his shoulder. He can’t decide whether or not it would be better for Sasori to come with him.

He decides it doesn’t matter anyways, considering Sasori is going to do whatever he wants either way, and he doesn’t have time to waste. Yoru’s perception flickers back like a kaleidoscope mosaic, heightening the experience of senses. His own panic funnels and staunches, and he heads for the stone at the top of the hill. 

Sasuke wakes up with a blindfold over his eyes, and a sinking pit of dread in his stomach.

This is every nightmare he’s ever had, every cautionary tale he’s ever been told. The elders talked about it all the time; the threat of kekkei genkai theft was constantly present. Sasuke just never considered that it would happen to _him._

His head feels like it was stuffed with cotton. His ears ring, his knees shake, his head aches with a dull pain that starts behind his eyes and radiates to the rest of his head. Sluggish, disorientated, and definitely not with Itachi. Where - where _was_ he? He remembers walking through the street after Itachi, getting caught behind a couple of yelling kids, getting turned around in the crowd- and then nothing. 

“He’s young.” One gruff voice comments. “They usually don’t wake it up until ten, unless he’s got it now.”

The stone floor is cold on the soles of his feet. They must've taken his shoes. 

One of them rips the cloth roughly from his face, and flashes the bright beam of a flashlight in his eyes. He tries to jerk away from the sudden, throbbing pain, but the man presses a scarred finger to his brow bone. 

“You can see the blood vessels around the pupils. He’s got it.”

The man to the left laughs. “Early bloomer, huh? Put him in there with the rest of them until the boss decides what to do.”

And then he’s jostled forward on sluggish legs and into the hall.

The cell is too small for its three inhabitants. A girl slumped in the corner. A boy who looks a few years older sits with his legs folded carefully, perfectly still despite the situation.

It takes active effort not to activate the Sharingan. There were no chakra-restricting cuffs like the village had, but that was probably to be expected, from such a place. But the Sharingan couldn’t saw through the bars and he had too little experience with genjutsu to hurt anyone meaningfully. 

The lone guard posted in the hallway bangs his knuckles against the bars when anyone gets too loud. Apparently they’re being moved to a second location. That’s bad. 

The boy in the corner watches him. “You shouldn’t move around too much. They’ll come back over if they think you’re being uncooperative.”

Like he was about to cooperate with these people. 

Sasuke glares. “Don’t you want to get out of here?”

“I will.” He replies simply. "At the right moment. I could freeze and break these bars now, but I have a mission to complete."

Sasuke glances at him. "You're a Shinobi."

"I am. And you're the Uchiha they were talking about."

He wraps his hands around the cold steel. "Why are you in here, if you weren't taken?"

"My mission parameters were specific. This site is a storage space rented by a man named Hifume Watanabe. He's an associate of Gato. You know who he is?"

"Yes."

"He profits from these rings. But the men here are all missing nin, and one of the men here has a bounty that earns Gato more money than his work is worth. So I've been tasked with his capture, without disrupting regular operation, harming any of the other employees, or letting any of them know I'm in Gato's employ, as that would jeapordize the partnership. They're going to move us soon. Probably to one of Orochimaru's rings. That's why they didn't chain you like they did the rest of us." He tilts his head. "What can you do?"

He scowls, and tames the racing of his heart. He doesn't have time to address that this person is also working for Gato, that, even indirectly, is contributing to the situation he's currently in. He doesn't have time to pick apart the motivations of his only ally. The reinforcements are strong enough that he can't break them, his weapons are gone, and everyone else is either too weak or sick to do anything. It occurs to him, then, that they only go after weak-looking targets. "What do you need me to do?"

The boy smiles. "Good answer. After I escape, my partner will arrive here to pick me up. I'll let you go."

The guard paces the length of the hallway again. Sasuke moves away from the bars to avoid the nails scraping against the rusting metal. As soon as he's out of earshot, he leans back over his knees. "How long do we have to wait?"

"Not long now." 

Sasuke exhales deeply. 

"What's your name?"

"Sasuke."

The boy leans forward, and smiles. "I'm Haku."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been an... interesting week and I'm exhausted.
> 
> Anyways  
> \- this is where the canon divergence is gonna show big time  
> -arc: fuck with the land of waves hierarchy and its mob bosses and inadvertently konoha too has begun  
> \- more on Haku and what's going on w that next chapter (I moved his arc up bc that's not gonna happen later but I really like him)  
> \- Sasori is just mildly annoyed about this one mild inconvenience and is making sure everyone knows it


	6. Chapter 6

“Itachi. Don’t be hasty.”

Sasori’s hand is a vice grip around his shoulder, fingers digging into his collarbone with enough force to bruise. A clear warning, which Itachi has every intention to ignore. Itachi’s fingers twitch around the hilt of his kunai. He’s going to blow that hideout to pieces. 

“Get off me.” He shakes the hand off of him, and narrows his eyes. 

“You can’t storm in there, unfortunately.” He drawls, voice lazy. Yoru flaps his wings around his head like a stormcloud. Itachi’s heart beats heavy in his ears, and he lets the mangekyo seep into his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Weasel, he thinks. He should be better than this. How many missions has he survived? He was ANBU, he’s a missing nin, he can stay composed. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“You know who runs this part of the island.” Sasori replies. 

Gato. “If you think that’s going to stop me, you’re mistaken.”

Armed with his army of mercenaries or not, Itachi could take them.

“You don’t want to invoke his wrath.” Sasori continues, unhurried and unbothered. “Gato controls the ports on this side of the ocean. You don’t think the extent of his contacts ends here, do you? And to publicly oppose him, under the Akatsuki name, no less… well, that would be securing a powerful enemy.” 

Itachi glares at him. “You trade with him?”

“We trade with anyone who offers, regardless of personal distaste, so long as they aren’t explicitly affiliated with a village. Gato is a powerful ally to have, and an unfortunate enemy. You’ll have to think of a better plan, I’m afraid. Too many people have seen us already. If we cause a scene, they’ll trace it back to us.”

Itachi grits his teeth. “Genjutsu is an option, isn’t it?”

Sasori shrugs. “As long as you don’t damage his merchandise, I don’t care what you do.”

Useless fucking _asshole-_

Itachi wastes no more time, and sets off towards the building.

The anticipation is probably the worst thing about this. Or the pounding at the side of his skull, or the sideways aching of the bruises on his ribs. Sasuke can’t remember how they took him above the steady pain in his temple, but he knows someone must have hit him. He prods at the necklace of bruises around his neck as the guards pass by, more and more of them as time stretches on. 

Haku slumps on the opposite side of the cell. If he squints, Sasuke can tell from the set of his shoulders and the sharpness of his eyes that his facade of fear isn’t as convincing as before. He picks the dirt from under his fingernails as another one passes by, an ugly scar disfiguring his arm. 

Down the hall, someone is crying. The sound pierces his ears like needles. Chains scrape, footsteps echo, and then a shadow passes in front of them. The rattling gets quieter, further away, as the rest of them are marched out the back exit and away.

A hand closes around the bar, and a key clatters as it’s turned in the lock. Sasuke strangles his fingers white, and shifts closer to the door. Haku catches his gaze from beneath the shadows, and nods near imperceptibly. 

Sasuke forms the sign just as Itachi taught him, and as the door swings open, he wraps his fingers around the bar. 

The entire cell lights up with eerie yellow light. The electricity leaps up the bars and shoots through him. The man staggers back with sharp gasps of pain, clutching a hand to his chest. _Electricity damages the functioning of the heart,_ Itachi had told him. _If you’re precise, it isn’t difficult to disrupt the electrical impulses that control its beating. Be careful when you use it._

Lightning affected the body the same way a tsunami flooded irrigation fields; sometimes there was a field left to be salvaged, but the ditches were destroyed. 

Haku leaps to his feet, so quick it’s almost impossible to follow his movements, and kicks the door open. It scrapes against the wet cement floor. Sasuke jumps to his feet after him. He braces himself on the ground, and his palm comes back framed with dirt and blood. 

“The key.” Haku says. “On the keyring on his belt. The last one.”

Sasuke yanks it from his belt, not checking to look at the man who might be dead. He glances at the open door at the end of the dark hall, the light enough to blind. He fumbles the key into the slot and turns until he hears the lock click. The shackles on Haku’s wrists clatter to the ground. He doesn’t even pause to consider the dark bruises on his wrists, before grabbing him by the shoulder and steering him in the opposite direction.

The man must be dead, yet.

“There’s another exit.” He whispers. This stairwell leads further down into the darkness. Sasuke realizes belatedly that his Sharingan had activated at some point. “Follow me.”

He navigates through the darkness easily. Another long row of cages. They all look empty, thankfully.

“They’re moving them to their next location now.” Haku explains. “They’ll probably end up in Otogakure. Maybe Kirigakure, if they’re lucky.”

Otogakure? That wasn’t a name he was familiar with, but his questions could wait.

They pause by the door, and Haku listens for anyone on the other side. 

“This leads underground.”

“How do you know about this?”

“This is the way they brought me in.” 

He prods at the space above them, and finally kicks in a door just above a few crude dirt steps, probably hastily sculpted by a thoughtless earth jutsu. Light spills into the dusty air. He shields his eyes from the sun as they yank themselves out. 

Haku offers him a hand, and Sasuke takes it. 

The grass under his fingers is a welcome memory. 

“My partner will be here soon.” Haku says. “Do you have someone with you, or are you going to go now?”

“I was with my brother.” He replies, turning over his shoulder. Over the side of the rocks was an old, dirt street, trampled by hooves and shoes alike. The distant sound of chatter warms the air, bartering and singing and conversation, juxtaposed against the cold silence of the cages. “I don’t know where he is now.”

Haku hums. “We should get out of the open. There’s a shop we can wait at while we wait.”

Sasuke frowns. “All those other people… what about them?”

“What about them? I was only contracted here so I could fulfill my orders.”

_I don’t want to leave them._

“... there’s nothing in your contract that says you have to stop me from doing anything, is there?”

Haku contemplates that for a minute. “... nothing would oblige me to stop you, but it’s a foolish decision. You’ll be killed. You’re already injured, and outnumbered. You know there’s nothing you can do.”

He stands instead. Grass and dandelions sway around his ankles in the breeze. “Fine.”

That could’ve easily been him. It was a grim reality for any kids from prominent clans, anyone born with a kekkei genkai at all. 

“You’re serious.”

“You don’t have to help me.”

Haku holds his gaze for a moment, searching for something, before sighing. He rises to his feet and brushes himself off. His patchwork clothes hang off of him. “I can’t promise anything.”

Through the pain in his eyes and his head, Sasuke thinks he might be relieved.

The kids, blindfolded, are loaded into the back of a wagon, fenced in by wooden sidebars. There are four men that he can see, probably more back in the hideout. The ox steering the cart stomps its hooves and tosses its head, horns slicing through the air. 

“You can do water jutsu, right?” 

“I can.”

The river is close enough behind them to be an asset. “Can you flood the grass?”

Haku glances at him, and then interlocks his fingers. “Yes.”

The second Raiton of the day knocks the wind out of him. As Haku coaches the groundwater to seep up through the dirt, Sasuke crouches in wait. One man notices the rising water levels and mutters to his colleague in a language he doesn’t understand, something alluding to a northern accent curling his words. The water rises to ankle-level. 

_“You-”_

Before he has the chance to get the rest of the word out, Sasuke electrifies the water. It fizzles and cracks with steam, and they topple. He takes Haku’s knife and seizes his opportunity to creep over to the wagon, slashing the reins and pulling open the door. 

A kunai flies over his shoulder.

Looks like they noticed. This shock, unfortunately, wasn’t enough to put anyone down and keep them there. 

In his periphery, Haku ducks gracefully out of the way of an incoming kick, returning the sentiment with a well-placed kick to the chest. 

The kids scramble off the wagon, and someone must notice, because someone yells a rough, startled curse. 

A man lumbers through the smoke, a snarl distorting his face. Sasuke scrambles back, a _Shinobi does not show emotions, a Shinobi sacrifices themself for the mission,_ and can only think to throw his arms out, before something shakes the ground.

“Haku.” A voice growls. “You and your damn bleeding heart.”

The man dwarfs him in his shadow. He swings the heavy sword slung over his shoulder in one hand, the length of the blade easily taller than he stands. A hitai-ate with Kirigakure’s symbol etched out sits on his forehead, branding him one of their missing nin. Being as lax as they were with mission restrictions and absolutely merciless to traitors, there weren’t many of them. 

He wraps his hand around the man’s skull with enough force to crack bone.

“Sorry, Zabuza.” Haku says. “I didn’t mean to get involved.”

Zabuza shakes his head and scoffs. “All this effort, and for one brat?” He looks down at Sasuke. “An Uchiha, huh?”

He shakes the man like a ragdoll, and tosses the man to the ground, pulling the sword on the one idiotic enough to try and come at him from the back. “Mission status?”

“Failed.”

“Stupid brat. You should know that Gato has no use for a blunt tool.”

A spot of darkness passes over his head. Sasuke knows it instinctively.

“Yoru!” 

And that must mean:

_“Sasuke!”_

Itachi ascends the hill, murder in his eyes and his weapon in hand, black tomoe circling in his eyes, a hard edge of steel in his voice. “What’s going on?” He gives him a quick once over, decides that his injuries don't need immediate tending to, and puts his arm in front of him. Sasori looks between them, unperturbed, and gestures broadly. "Itachi, meet Zabuza."

“Guys…” Sakura tugs nervously at the ends of her hair. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Choji shrugs, and Ino fips her hair over her shoulder. “Of course it is, Shikamaru thought it up.”

Shikamaru would like to bask in the praise, he really would, except Sakura isn’t the smartest kunoichi in their class for nothing. It isn’t a coincidence that the ANBU agent showed up after he found Hatake’s files in Inoichi’s office. It was a risky move, but considering their position, he couldn’t think of a better one.

“That’s…” Sakura wrinkles her nose. “That’s not a good reason.”

Ino pinches her shoulder. “Shut up.”

“We stick together.” Choji says. “That’s what my Dad says. And Sakura, you’re part of the group now, too.”

Sakura falters. “Oh… really?”

Rather, she was the only one crazy enough to willingly go along with them.

Shikamaru knocks on the door again, harder.

This would be inconsiderate, in any other situation. It _is_ inconsiderate, and callus, and rude, as Ino had pointed out earlier. They have no business standing on this doorstep. 

Mikoto Uchiha opens the door, and her smile turns to melted plastic around the edges. “Oh.” She says, standing in the doorway. “How can I help you?”

“We’re classmates of Sasuke’s.” Ino cuts in. 

“Oh, of course.” Mikoto says, and stands aside to let them in. Her eyes flicker to the trees to their left, and she hurries them inside. “Please, come in.”

Mikoto Uchiha is exactly as her file says: proficient in several jutsus, of considerable talent, and dangerous. The way she sat against the cushions, one leg crossed over the other, would otherwise give her the impression of any housewife playing hostess, but there was a sharpness to her shoulders, a glint of something in her eye that reminds him of war veterans. That’s not to mention the cats lounged around the house, looking for all the world like they were relaxing. Lazy twitching tales, dark eyes slits, waiting to pounce. 

Her infamous summon, Shiori, watches from the other couch. She’s a beauty, something even the Inuzuka would be proud of. 

Mikoto pours them all tea, and smiles. “So, what brings you children here?”

Shikamaru looks at the house. Outwardly, it’s completely normal. Standard, to be expected of the average Uchiha household. Except there are no pictures of either of her children anywhere to be found. It seems that her husband isn’t home, and there aren’t any pictures of him, either. 

“We were wondering about some things.” Choji says.

Something about this is strange. Something about all of this is strange. Despite having a public file, none of her missions are listed. Only ANBU got their public records destroyed, and they hadn't had an Uchiha in ANBU in the history of the division, not before Itachi, and, to a lesser extent, Shisui. 

(That was another problem, but his father looked at him strangely any time he tried to bring it up. It wasn’t a safe topic to discuss yet). 

“It’s nice to have guests.” She says, reaching out to scratch Shiori’s ear. “No one likes to come into the district.”

Ino visibly winces.

“Are you here about the funeral services?”

Shikamaru startles. “The what?”

Her smile pinches. “You didn’t hear? Sasuke’s been presumed dead.”

The temperature of the room seems to drop. Sakura white knuckles the arm of the couch. 

That doesn’t… make sense.

“Why would they do that?” Shikamaru frowns. “There’s no evidence of that. If Itachi wanted to kill him he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of dragging him out of the village.”

Her smile thins again. “The council decided that it was done for political leverage.”

“Were any attempts of leverage made?”

“Those are classified.” There’s a challenge in her eyes. Almost there, it says.

“They don’t want to waste resources on something they assume is a lost cause, right?” He tries. “Open cases suck up resources and time, and…” Need to be reviewed. If the case was closed, it made it difficult to open up again. They didn’t want anyone looking into the situation.

He clamps his mouth shut. Ino, Choji, and Sakura look his way. 

“The funeral services are going to be held if any of you or your classmates want to come.” 

Sakura’s lip trembles. “Thank you.”

“I have another question.” He says. Ino glares at him and unsubtly stomps on his foot. He grimaces, but doesn’t stop. “Why would the ANBU captain lie on official record about the time of your son’s disappearance?”

Mikoto stiffens. Ino inhales through her teeth. 

“I think,” She starts carefully, “That you ought to be careful what you say, and who you say it around.”

The ANBU agent still had to be trailing them, but spying on citizens for any reason other than suspected treason was illegal. “Unjust surveillance of citizens is a federal offense.” Shikamaru points out. 

The smile stays on. “I never said it was ANBU.”

He pauses. Sakura’s brow furrows. “But… what other division is there than ANBU?”

“You four should go.” Mikoto says, and stands up. Shiori slides to the ground and slinks to her feet after her. “I have to get dinner started, and your parents are probably worried. Shikamaru.”

He glances over his shoulder.

“You need to be careful who you say that around. Don’t show your cards so easily.” 

Shikamaru could see the jonin in her then. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

She ushers them out the front door. “Visit anytime you like. Get home safe.”

The door shut behind them, stranding them on the porch. 

Ino whirls on him, her ponytail nearly hitting Choji in the face. “What was that about?”

Shikamaru thinks about what she said. 

“I think…” He starts. “This is a lot bigger than I thought.”

Zabuza snarls like a cornered animal. Haku tugs at his arm. 

Itachi shoves Sasuke behind him.

“No!” He scrambles, pulling at Itachi’s sleeve. “He saved me!”

Zabuza curls his lip. “You’re Konoha’s weasel, aren’t you?”

Itachi’s mouth tightens. “I don’t belong to Konoha anymore.”

Zabuza barks a laugh. “How long did it take to train that out of you?”

In the far distance, ash burns on the wind. Sasuke tightens his grip. “Itachi.” 

Sasori sighs heavily behind him. “What’s it with you two and attracting drama?” He turns his unimpressed face towards the decimation in their wake. The kids are gone, the thugs are unconscious or dead, and if Sasuke thinks about his nausea, he can forget about the pain behind his eyes. 

“Get out of our way.” Zabuza says, and draws his sword. Sasori rolls his eyes. “Put your toothpick away. You two were under Gato’s employ, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” Haku answers before Zabuza gets the chance. “Why?”

“If we want to keep him from targeting either of us, I propose a truce.”

“We accept.” Haku says, and shoots a look Zabuza’s way, as if daring him to contest. He clenches his jaw and lowers his sword. “What do you propose?”

Itachi keeps Sasuke tucked to his side the entire walk back to the tavern. He would’ve let Sasuke go off by himself to rest if not for the fact that he had a clear concussion and him being unsupervised wasn’t the best idea, and he needed to be with Sasori for the discussion. Picking at the dry blood coagulating at his temple and the overblown pupils told him all he needed to know about the head wound. Then there was the blood on his hands, and he wouldn’t tell him whose that was, and the clear signs of chakra exhaustion. 

Three tomoe. 

Itachi’s heart drops into his chest when he sees it. Finally, a completely mature Sharingan. 

Sasuke used to dream about this. Itachi had never had the heart to tell him that the only way to get it was through pain. He wishes, for the first time, that they hadn't been born into this curse. 

“It’s obvious that the guards were electrocuted. Haku isn’t known for his ability to create lightning jutsu, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s safe to claim that Haku wasn’t involved in the attack at all. Instead, his mission was sabotaged by a particularly powerful child they scouted. Seeing that his target was dead, he fled the scene.”

“And the guards with bruises on them?”

“Without a proper autopsy, there’s no way to tell how old the bruises are, or if they were sustained before or after the attack. That being said, bruises alone are too broad an injury to associate with Zabuza. Considering he refrained from slicing anyone in half, and that he was seen by the ports earlier, it also doesn’t implicate him by proximity. Sasuke also has no actual affiliation with the Akatsuki, so Gato can’t very well go after us without expecting a villain from Konan.”

This was the first Itachi was hearing of anyone named Konan. 

“On top of that, I have an offer for you.”

Zabuza leans back in his chair. “And that would be?”

“I’m sure you’ll find working for the Akatsuki is much preferable to employment under Gato.” Sasori folds his hands. “I can assure we pay handsomely. Even if you agree under mercenary terms, the effect is still the same, and you’d avoid having to work at places like this.”

“Kirigakure nin are raised on dirty work.” Zabuza replies. “That’s not much of a deal.”

“For you, maybe.” Sasori replies smoothly. “What about your charge?”

Haku doesn’t respond to that, but Zabuza considers that. 

“We can discuss the details later.” Sasori offers.

Zabuza props his hand on the table instead. “Why are you so far out? I thought your kind preferred the desert.”

“We were scouting out a potential beneficiary. Unfortunately he was killed in the crossfire of a gang war yesterday.” He shrugs, as if that were something so easily glossed over. “There were rumors that one of the blades of Kirigakure was doing Gato’s dirty work for him that just happened to coincide with the date of our mission. This work is beneath the both of you. We can offer you something more dignified - and more challenging.”

“We’ll hear you out.” Zabuza says. “Later.” He jerks his chin in Sasuke’s direction. “Your kid looks like he’s gonna pass out.”

Itachi glances Sasori’s way, who waves him off. “I don’t care what you do. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

Itachi bows his head and leads Sasuke back to their shared room.

“What happened?”

Itachi’s medical ninjutsu is nothing to marvel at. It’s better than nothing, but all ANBU are required to have only a surface level understanding of the process and it isn’t good for the precision required to treat head wounds. 

Sasuke shrugs, and hisses when he presses the wound. 

He sets the gauze on the side of the bed. “You got your third tomoe. Congratulations.”

It feels hollow. At home, there would be a celebration for this. The elders would light a fire and there would be music and food, and at the end of the night you would visit the temple of Amaterasu to ask for her blessing. Now, her temple steps were desecrated by her people's blood, and home was a long ways away. 

Sasuke doesn’t smile or light up, the weight of his bloodline heavy on his shoulders. 

“Are you alright?”

“...yeah.”

Itachi frowns, but Sasuke is more headstrong than he is and if he doesn’t want to talk, he isn’t going to. So he leaves it at that. 

“Sai.” Danzo says. The angle of the light makes the outline of his bandages look blurry. Sai clips his mask to his belt and desperately wishes Danzo let him keep it on. Eye to eye like they were, there was noting to hide behind. Danzo’s gaze always tore him to shreds. It always seemed to know when he was thinking something he wasn’t supposed to be. Taming the thoughts wasn’t quite so easy as the tongue. 

He runs his tongue over his teeth and tries to reconcile Sai and Owl in his mind. It should be easy, at this point. “Your report?”

“Already filed, sir.”

He left it with his personal guards this morning. As he passed, he heard Hawk saying something about Shisui, one of Danzo’s personal, unlisted agents. Objectively the perfect soldier, with a spotless record, and one that was thrown away easily. It was all the more incentive to behave.

_You’re replaceable,_ it seemed to say. And so be it. 

“The children were seen entering the house of Mikoto Uchiha. She was seen earlier in the day in the company of Kakashi Hatake, though it was unclear what the intention of their conversation was. She mentioned that they might be there concerning Sasuke Uchiha’s status, though they seemed surprised by this. The Nara heir has almost certainly come to some conclusion about the Uchiha clan.”

Danzo mulls this over. Sai follows the line of the kunai on the table carefully. 

“I see.” He says eventually, which gives him no indication that he is either satisfied or unsatisfied with Sai’s work. “An unfortunate reality, then.”

Oh, Sai knows that tone.

“Do you want me to dispose of them?”

His pencil scratches on the paper in front of him. “The killing of a clan child would be too conspicuous, especially considering the circumstances of the Uchiha clan. The Haruno girl, however, has no such conflicts.”

“Sir?”

“You have no official orders for this week. You’re dismissed.”

Sai turns on his heel, and walks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody guess what I'm not dead and neither is this story!! I know I'm surprised too
> 
> So I lost like half the notes I had for the story planning and I'm super mad abt it and I forgot like all of the things I was planning which is why this chapter took so damn long:( But I won't be stopping y'all are stuck with me
> 
> Anyways happy holidays to those who celebrate :)


	7. Chapter 7

The cold water froths under his hand, pulled westward by the current, spilling over dark, smooth rocks, and Sasuke imagines the current taking the blood with it. He folds among the sawgrass, swaying in the breeze. Sedge clumps beneath his boots, and the summer breathes slick humidity down the back of his neck. 

Itachi, Zabuza, and Sasori stand hunched among the grassy field, discussing something that, apparently, doesn’t involve them. Sasuke can’t figure out whether or not he’s miffed about Itachi’s careless dismissal of him to sit by the river with Haku. Maybe less so, because of the crows gathered on the slippery rocks, preening as Haku runs his fingers through their feathers. 

They clump between them like a void of ossifying darkness, occasionally surrendering a beak or a rustled feather to the light. Yobu is the only exception, a dark spot standing out among the soldiering ranks of Cypress trees, closed around each other tightly to hide their secrets, sitting on stilted roots to keep them from the slow moving mud.

“That one bites.” He warns Haku away from Keiko’s beak, waiting to snap at his fingers the way she snapped at Itachi’s hair when they were upset. He grumbles, warding away from her. “She’s not exactly house broken.” 

Haku smiles placidly. “I can see. That crow - it stays away from the group, doesn’t it?”

He shrugs. “That’s Yobu. He’s… Itachi said he’s my Summon now. The rest of them are kind of… a hivemind. Yobu, and Keiko, I guess, both have individual thoughts.”

Haku hums. “Interesting. You don’t see many Summons in Kirigakure.”

Sasuke turns to call Yobu over. Itachi’s gaze flicks his way, before returning to the conversation he’s having. 

“Why?”

“Ah, it’s seen as a… superfluous sentimentality. Kirigakure is… very centered around individuality. Forming attachments to anything should be avoided, if it can be helped.”

“That’s inefficient.” He counters. Yobu flutters onto his finger with a few flaps of his wings, steadying himself. He tilts his head as he looks Haku’s way, and Sasuke notices the iridescent stone caught in his beak. “Where did you get that?”

Figures, that he’d go rooting around in the mud for something shiny. He and Kakuzu would get along. 

Yobu drops the stone at Haku’s feet and watches him closely with charcoal-black eyes. 

“...he likes you.”

Yobu croons as Haku scratches his neck. 

“Summons are useful.” Sasuke continues. “They have practical uses.”

“What does Yobu do?”

Sasuke rolls his wrist, and he hangs on anyway. “Robbing unsuspecting street vendors.”

Haku huffs a laugh. “They can also be distinctive. For the sake of anonymity, they aren’t as widespread in Kiri. But I suppose that’s just a cultural aspect of it, as well. Scrolls are less accessible there, too, so far divorced from the rest of the world. An economy built on labor doesn’t facilitate trade for those sorts of things as easily.”

Sasuke glances over his shoulder. Sasori is sunken into his Akatsuki cloak, the bone-white tip of his scorpion tail dragging on the ground, making a soft rattling as it swished side to side lazily, like the stalking of the cats in the Uchiha District’s back alleys. The line of Itachi’s shoulders is tense, and his eyes are narrow, obviously, clearly stressed, while Zabuza’s hand rests on the hilt of his sword like he intended to start a fight. 

The weight of the Sharingan feels… different than it did before. He’s not quite sure how to articulate it. The stinging stopped a while ago, after they’d dragged them out to the wetlands to avoid any potential skirmishes with Gato’s gangs (or a repeat of him getting kidnapped), but the strange weight was there, and he was unable to tell if it was more physical or psychological. It bathed the world in red, the humming cycle of his chakra feeding into it like a black hole. Itachi had mentioned endurance training before, and it was definitely something he was going to have to look into if he wanted this to be manageable. 

Itachi was younger when he got this. How did he ever deal with it? 

He tips his head back to sigh, and Yobu bobs his head, warbling. 

“They certainly are taking a long time.” Haku leans back on his haunches, perfectly nonchalant despite being excluded from the conversation. “Zabuza is… rather contentious. He likes to barter.”

Sasuke mumbles in assent. “Itachi has a problem with him. He’s too tense.”

Sasori looks like he couldn’t care less, eyes darting slowly between them, blinking slowly. It wouldn’t surprise him if he wasn’t listening at all.

Haku stands, brushing the clumps of grass and dirt off his kimono. “Since we have nothing to do but kill time, would you like to train?”

He perks at the thought. Training gives him something to do, something physical to hold on to, easier to ground himself in reality. White noise could narrow into sharp focus as the Sharingan flared to life, tracking the movements of his enemies before they happened. A distraction, and good practice, since Itachi never seemed to take him seriously.

“Sure.” He agrees readily. “Keiko, go tell Itachi where we’re going.”

The crow tilts her head, and then takes off in a stormcloud of black. 

Haku starts walking to the next clearing over. The faux ANBU mask on his hip calls Sasuke’s attention, but he doesn’t question it. He came from an ANBU family, he’d seen Itachi’s mask enough to know that it was fake. He also knew that being ANBU granted you a fair bit of leeway in terms of law, domestic and international, and most people were too scared of them to even venture close to one, allotting a measure of privacy untouched by any other profession. 

That’s why faking one made for such a good profit, but it was also exceptionally dangerous. After the rise of faux-ANBU had taken off a year or two ago, they’d instated the death penalty to curb suspicious activity. 

(He remembers Itachi crying in his bedroom upstairs. One of them had killed his teammates, Shisui had said, when Itachi came home with blood red eyes. Itachi didn’t leave any survivors).

Cutthrroat. That’s the best word for it. And Haku has to know what league he’s playing in.

“I have a kekkei genkai of my own.” He says. “The chakra-draining effects are very similar to that of the Sharingan. I think we can both help each other with endurance.”

Sasuke slides his sword out of its sheath. Haku smiles halfway, like the latent danger behind every catlike smile Shisui ever gave him, and the water under his feet freezes solid. 

He barely manages a strangled, _“What?”_ before the fight starts in earnest.

Their conversation comes to a head when Zabuza finally agrees to a price. They immediately depart, Sasori to show them to the meeting place, and the two of them to Sasuke and Haku.

He doesn’t particularly like the idea of leaving Sasuke alone, but the opportunity for training was a good one, and he trusted Yobu to get him if anything went wrong. Zabuza, on the other hand, can only be trusted as much as your money was worth. There was very little to trust at all, from the man who had slaughtered his classmates and made a mercenary of himself.

_You’re both missing nin,_ the voice at the back of his head whispers. _You both bear the weight of your sins._

Itachi could live with that. He had to. What he’d done had been for the good of Konoha, for the people he protected. It was blood nevertheless, and life couldn’t be weighed in potential. Itachi was prepared for judgement when it came, but he didn’t want Sasuke to get involved. There was no reason to drag him deeper into the mess he’d made.

He finds Sasuke leaning against a tree to catch his breath, eyes bleeding red. He flinches at the sight of it. 

(He can still remember the _blood_ on his hands, and it looks wrong in Sasuke’s eyes, bearing the brunt of their family’s curse). 

“I hope you had a… productive training session.” He says. Sasuke pushes his sweaty bangs off his forehead, shifting his weight between his feet. Itachi doesn’t know where he gets the energy. 

“We were mostly focusing on endurance.” Haku says neatly, not even out of breath. The air is cold in contrast to the warm, thick air of the wetland. Ice, then? His foot brushes over a fractal of ice studding a budding leaf. Water and wind release, then. “The Sharingan is surprisingly adept at tracking movement. He was able to evade well.” 

Zabuza makes an impatient hand gesture. The crow on his shoulder bristles, feathers on its chest rising. “Enough idle chat. If we make good time, we can get to Amegakure by next month.”

A little over two weeks was… a generous margin, certainly, considering they’d need to pace themselves, but not an impossible one. 

“Amegakure?” Sasuke frowns. The red fades from his eyes, and his brows furrow. “Another client?”

He understands the… hesitance. Amegakure hasn’t curated the best of reputations. Between its near constant warfare and the civil war threatening to break out between the wealthy aristocrats and the working class, festering in the ruins of a city the government hasn’t the money to fix, it isn’t exactly the cornerstone for civil business transactions. No, Amegakure was for the world of criminals, and they both knew it.

“No.” He says. “It seems we’ve… gained the privilege of speaking to their recruiter, Konan.”

“The Angel of Ame.” Zabuza grins. “Legend has it, anyone who enters her territory never leaves.”

Haku rolls his shoulders back. “You’ve never been one for urban legends.”

The rumors must be relatively new, because he hasn’t heard them, and ANBU was a fine delta for cultivating information from all the tributaries that fed into it. 

“From what I’m told,” He continues. “She’s incredibly dangerous.”

That doesn’t quell Sasuke’s curiosity the way he hoped it would. 

“We should go. Sasori is waiting for us.”

Kakashi taps his pen on the table. And again. And again.

Inoichi glares at him out of the corner of his eye, hands folded professionally over his ever growing stack of paper - psych evaluations, field tests, new techniques, the likes - and twitches when he grins. Ibiki next to him looks none the pleased with his casual insubordination as Danzo talks, his voice the same gravelly drawl that comes with years of smoking (and kissing up to authority).

(Or was the Sandaime kissing up to him? It’s hard to tell, sometimes).

There are a scant few things that make him angry. He can hardly remember the last time he felt anything consistent at all; congealing anger was one of the few emotions he had a touch and go relationship with. Some of that came from circumstance; for example, the picture of his team on his dresser, the only photograph he owns. The second, from experience: _Danzo._

Kakashi has been an ANBU agent long enough to know danger when he sees it, and Danzo is a walking target. He’d missed it, the first time. He had a way of creeping under your skin, dredging up that old anger (it was the _Sandaime_ who authorized that mission, it was _him_ who had caused Minato and Kushina’s deaths, it was _him_ who made the decision to drag the war out longer than it had to be). He was dangerous for his cunning.

He was dangerous for ROOT.

He was dangerous for the seed of discontent he’d grown in the general public surrounding the Uchiha. 

“-And naturally, budget cuts must follow.”

The Sandaime raises a gray brow. “And you’ve talked this over amongst yourselves?”

A general mumble rises up, noncommittal. Kakashi hates these meetings with every inch of his body. He wouldn’t have to be here if not for his title as captain of ANBU, and he desperately wishes he was someone else.

He thumbs through the index cards on the table, reminding him of the points they’re supposed to be covering. Inoichi’s gaze meets his, a silent warning across the table: don’t challenge him. 

Well, that was how they got themselves into this mess, wasn’t it? Danzo was just the tale of a man with unchecked power and a god complex. Nothing they haven’t dealt with before. 

Speaking out ensures that he’ll have a target on his back, but Danzo already knows the stunt he pulls with Itachi. Calling him out publicly certainly can’t be worse than that.

“Won’t these cuts pull more money away from the Uchiha district?” He asks, voice a lazy drawl. He balances his head on his hand and fakes a yawn. “They were already marked down last month, yes?”

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

“Kakashi,” Danzo says, holding his gaze. He can’t help but look at the gauze on his face, hiding Shisui’s sharingan. The thought makes his stomach turn. Is that what he looks like to them? A thief so horrible as to steal something so sacred? “Our records will assure you, we have no other base to draw money from. It’s for the good of the village that we repurpose our funds for the benefit of all our citizens.”

Mikoto would’ve killed him for that. At this point, Kakashi might let her. 

“The only base?” He asks. “There’s an indeterminate amount of money being lost to an unlisted third party.”

The list on his desk is damning, and it took a fair amount of work to get. 

Ibiki inhales sharply.

_“Kakashi.”_ Inoichi snaps. Every pair of eyes turns his way, but no one comes to Danzo’s defense. Because they know. How could they not?

The Hyuga at the end of the table eyes him sharply with pale, narrowed eyes. “Are we casting accusations at such a time?”

The tension builds like the mounting bridge of a song. This is a stupid hill to die on.

“Of course, of course.” He replies easily, waving a hand. “That was out of line.”

“See that it doesn’t happen again.” Danzo says in a tone that Kakashi knows is a warning. “Perhaps there should be more screening on what psychological profiles are allowed to achieve such a high standing in ANBU.”

Ooh, low blow. Dig right into that trauma, for all he cares, people have said far, far worse. Right now, he just has to figure out whether or not he meant it as a threat.

(Mikoto would _definitely_ kill him for that).

The Sandaime looks between them, brows lowered and stress lines carved into his face deepening. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a while. “If we have no further objections, this meeting is adjourned.”

Kakashi waits for the thick of the crowd to drain out of the room, and then winces under the weight of Inoichi’s glare.

“What,” He hisses, “The _hell_ was that, Hatake?”

He pulled the ‘Hatake’ card, he must be really mad. 

“I would say that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever done, but it isn’t.” Ibiki scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Mm, I suppose I got a bit caught up in the moment.” Kakashi replies, tapping his fingers on the desk. He has no problem with gore, given his profession, but the sight of Danzo and the knowledge of the eyes beneath those bandages that he stole from the missing children in the closed cases on his desk makes him nauseous. 

“Caught up in the moment?” Inoichi drags a hand through his hair. “You accused Danzo of _treason._ During a _council meeting.”_

Kakashi halfway wonders what would happen if he told him that he almost assassinated the Hokage a couple years back. 

“That’s suicide and you know it. Maybe we do need another psych eval.”

“And put you through the ordeal of more paperwork?” He flattens a hand against his chest. “I would _never._ I’ve seen how many stacks of forms you take home at night, Inoichi, I don’t need to be adding to your burden.”

He just sighs. “Don’t pull that again. I know the Uchiha clan is… a personal subject, for you, but that doesn’t mean you should make yourself a target.”

“A little late for that.” He mumbles. “Cheer up, at the very least, he won’t easily murder me.”

“That is the opposite of reassuring.”

Kakashi smiles. “See, it’s already working! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few patrols to check on. See you later!”

Ignoring their cries of protest, he pulls his mask on and leaps out the window.

Mikoto stares at the cold stone beneath her as she kneels by the altar of Susanoo’s shrine. The wind whistles through the trees, the song of bluebirds drifts through the air. Behind her, Shiori stares down into the reflecting pool, watching the brightly colored fish swim against the dark stone.

She isn’t the religious type, but this is a place as good as any for reflection. It’s tradition to leave a gift, and in exchange, she can have her silence.

ROOT agents don’t dare come close enough to actually see her. The sheltering stone of Susanoo’s temple provides protection in more ways than one.

Another budget cut, suspiciously timed. The increasing instances of ROOT agents being spotted. She could’ve sworn she saw a shadow pass as those children left the house. She wonders if they’ve caught onto Kakashi’s ploy yet, if they know he’s working with Fugaku.

She calms the tsunami in her chest and breathes until the weight in her lungs lifts. It’s unlikely that they’ll escalate so quickly. Danzo is nothing if not a master manipulator. He has range, but not quite so much that the death of either she or Fugaku would be overlooked.

They have a contingency just in case: a folder that Kakashi, or Inoichi, if something is to happen to him, will handle in the case of their untimely deaths. Given the unusually aggressive natures of the agents, and the outright murder of Shisui, Itachi’s defection, it isn’t out of the question to assume that their death is where the situation is ending.

She must proceed carefully; right now, Danzo wants rid of them more than ever, and she can’t give him anything they can use to justify it. He wants a scapegoat so the village won’t have to take the fall, and with Kakashi on their side he’s unlikely to find one in ANBU. He’ll kill them one by one, if he has to, to uproot the rot growing in the city.

Mikoto wants to kill him for the things he’s done to her children, to the children of the clan. Shisui can have no rest until his eye is returned and buried. His soul cannot settle in the afterlife until justice has been brought upon them. Amaterasu weeps for her children, her temple desecrated, her people disgraced and wounded. 

She takes a deep breath.

_Composure._

“Shiori.” She calls, raising a hand for her to bump her head against. “Let’s see if Fugaku is home.”

She finds him in the kitchen, drowning himself in paperwork again. She wants to tell him that it’s alright to take a break, and that self flagellation will get him nowhere, but she knows that the effort is pointless. 

“How was work?” She asks, setting aside the dishes in the sink.

He runs a hand over his face. “They keep giving us jobs farther and farther away.”

She pauses. Her heart sinks into her stomach. “Oh?”

“It’s an effort to keep us away from the district. I don’t know what they’re trying to do, but it isn’t anything good.”

Her first instinct is: a trap. Easy to cover up deaths when they happen farther away. The classic draw the target away from their home and deliver the killing blow. 

“Take the week off.”

“What?” He frowns, lifting his gaze from the table.

She stands straight. “Take the week off.”

“Mikoto, I ca-”

“Fugaku.” Cold dread simmers in her stomach. “Something’s wrong.”

He holds her gaze for a moment, and sighs. “I know. I have leave lined up anyways, I’ll take it early.” 

She loosens her grip on the counter. “Thank you.” 

As Sakura turns another page of her history textbook, she wants to pull her hair out. 

It’s factual knowledge that Amegakure’s civil war was a _direct consequence_ of the Third Shinobi War, except this particular author didn’t seem to be too concerned about historical authenticity. 

Ever since Shikamaru had opened up his family library for her to read, she found more and more discrepancies. For example, the origin of the ‘curse of hatred’ was first written by the _Nidaime_ after the fallout of the war, and that it was only propagated then on, and there was no scientific backing to it whatsoever.

(Not that she really expected it to be, but it was dubious nevertheless). 

How much of the material that they were taught was simply wrong? 

Sakura could name the arteries you punctured to make a killing blow. She knows how much force it takes to break someone’s windpipe. She knows how one good hit to the solar plexus can keep a grown man down long enough to kill him. She doesn’t know why Amegakure has had seven civil wars in the past hundred years. She doesn’t know why Kusagakure refuses to house any Shinobi from Konoha or Iwagakure.

“Found something else.” She mumbles, tagging it. “How has nobody else noticed this?” 

She flips another page. “We can’t get arrested for this, right?”

Shikamaru groans from the other side of the library. There are no windows in here, for safety purposes, so the only source of light they have comes from a kerosene lamp, spitting uneven orange light onto the garish rust colored carpet.

“According to this police procedural? No.” He scratches the back of his neck. “But ANBU’s done some shady stuff in the past, so, you know.”

She grimaces. “They wouldn’t kill you, you’re way too valuable.”

“Eh.” He rolls his shoulder until it pops. “How many does that bring the tally up to?”

“In this book?” She asks dryly. “Twenty seven. It’s just… lies. Like, stupid, obviously incorrect lies. Wars don’t just start on their own!”

“I’m surprised they mentioned Ame at all. Most of the curriculum pretends it doesn’t exist.”

“Yeah.” She grumbles. “Because then maybe people would have to actually think about what they’re saying.”

Somehow, Sakura hadn't been expecting the sheer scale of misinformation she found cropping up. It’s obvious now that Amegakure was an easily exploitable battleground for their wars (not to mention how many activists they had there, speaking out against the Shinobi system. Easier to make that disappear by completely levelling their cities) but she doubts she would’ve noticed that if someone hadn't pointed it out. 

“This is really messed up.”

Shikamau stares at her. “Yeah, that’s kinda what being in ANBU is. One time, I got my Dad to talk about this campaign near Kusagakure he planned to stop this one revolt that was happening, while we were eating dinner.” He scrunches up his nose. “I really didn’t need to hear about trench foot during dinner.”

Sakura tries not to gag. “Mom won’t even let me talk about school at the dinner table.”

Shikamaru shrugs. “It’s ‘cause your parents are civilians. They don’t know.”

He says it so casually that it gives her pause. Should they? This seems like the kind of thing you shouldn’t keep from people, especially not the ones you’re trying to protect.

Someone knocks on the door. Sakura snaps the book shut and hurriedly deposits it on the pile next to her.

“Hey!” Choji calls. “I made dumplings!”

“Not in the library!” Shikamaru shouts back, and then he groans. “Fine! We’re coming! This is boring anyways.”

He stands up and pulls open the door, letting the light wash into the dark, stale air. 

Ino’s voice echoes from the kitchen: “You coming, nerds?”

Sakura squawks indignantly and rises to her feet, running after her. Shikamaru shakes his head, sighs, and promptly falls asleep on the table.

Amegakure, Sasuke can say with certainty, is absolutely miserable. It rains near constantly, pouring from the sky in torrents that would put Kusagakure’s capricious storm spells to shame. The water sinks into your bones, and then the cold. The wind lances straight through him, and the crumbling path of mud slips from the path straight into the valley below.

A tongue of lightning flashes in the belly of the storm. His joints ache.

Sasori looks down upon them from his high rock perches, crouched on his haunches with the puppet’s tail wrapped around a jutting spire of rock. The sheltering cliff face doesn’t do much good with protecting them from the conditions when all it does is weep a landslide of mud.

He hisses through his teeth as the rock beneath his foot becomes dislodged. It goes tumbling into the valley in a tsunami of mud and silt.

Sasuke holds his tongue against the roof of his mouth and cycles his chakra more evenly through his body, keeping a stabilizing hand against the rock wall and forcing warmth into his numbing fingers. 

Sasori, who by all accounts should be the most miserable out of all of them, seems only to delight in their suffering. “We’re almost there.”

_Finally._ Two straight weeks of constant travel through the soupy, gravelly churn that was Southern Ame was horrible enough that he’d forgotten what it was like to feel dry. 

“Over there, see that overhang?”

“Why did she want to meet so far out?” Itachi pitches his voice over the hiss of lightning. 

“It seemed more appropriate for a meeting. The hideout is too far, and it would be difficult for a party of our size to get through any city easily. They aren’t fond of Shinobi.”

Sasori propels himself over another rock ledge, and then comes to settle in front of Itachi. “I’ll signal we’re here.”

Itachi steps back towards him. “Stay with Haku while we talk to her, okay?”

He just sighs, glaring up through the sopping fringe of his bangs. _“Fine."_

Konan is definitely every bit as dangerous as he pegged her for.

Everything about her looks demure, from the paper carnation tucked behind her ear to the part of her hair. However, there still lies an aura of danger, the same way he knew to fear brightly colored plants for their poison, and the cloying sweetness of rotten fruit. Konan is a living weapon, and if rumors about her are to be believed, she isn’t an enemy to be made lightly.

Even Zabuza stiffens under the placid weight of her glare, entering the overhang of rock. Lightning slashes apart the sky again, illuminating her figure in white light before fading again. Itachi resists the urge to call for his crows.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Itachi, Zabuza.” She bows her head to both of them, and immediately a chill runs down his spine. If he was facing her on the battlefield, he would fear for his life. “I hope your travels haven’t been too harsh, especially with ones so young.”

Her eyes flick to Sasuke and Haku, huddled under the rocks a fair distance away. Itachi shifts between her line of sight. “They’ve been fine, thank you. It’s an honor to be offered a place in your organization.”

She smiles her alabaster teeth. “A pleasure to have you. And you, Zabuza. Your reputation precedes you. It’s always ideal to have such powerful assets on one’s side.”

“Now, Itachi, you’ll be receiving your orders through me. Zabuza, a third party will contact you, through which you’ll receive your jobs. Is this acceptable?”

“Yes.”

Zabuza grunts.

“Lovely.” She smiles. “I’ll leave Sasori to debrief you with the rest. It was a pleasure meeting you. Welcome to the Akatsuki.”

A piece of paper peels away from her cheek, and Itachi startles. He’s never seen anything like it before. Folded wings of paper emerge from behind her, and then she’s gone.

ROOT headquarters are… loud, this morning. 

Sai ambles across the suspended walkways, ignoring the bustle around them. What the fuss is, he doesn’t know, and can’t really find it in him to care. Fox puts her mask on with a frenzied sort of panic that makes him a little bit curious, but it’s only when Lynx follows suit that his attention is fully caught.

What could everyone be gearing up to do, so early in the morning?

He knocks on the door of Danzo’s office to deliver his report. It’s dark inside, but that means very little. He waits, tries again, and then pushes the door open.

Danzo sits behind his desk, winding stained bandages around his arms - the ones full of eyes. He keeps them hidden like Sai doesn’t know about the Uchiha kids that he took the other day. He spots the signs of strain, chakra depletion. 

He’s been practicing with them.

Sai isn’t supposed to feel anything in particular about that, so he doesn’t.

“The report, sir.”

“Sai.” He greets. “What did you observe?”

“The children spend most of their time together, which makes them hard to isolate. For the past week they’ve been spending a particular amount of time in the Nara’s house. Because of their security measures, it makes them difficult to track. Otherwise, there seems to be no abnormal behavior.”

“Good.” He paints his signature on a document. Sai catches the name of a town in the dim light, somewhere near the Eastern border. “Now, leave me, Sai. I have work to do.”

He can almost feel the weight of the Sharingan on him, but he isn’t supposed to feel fear. So he doesn’t.

“Yes, Sir.” He chirps, and slams the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyy look at me finally updating
> 
> Now that I don't have as many projects going I'm hoping that the updates will be closer to 2 weeks and not like 2 months fsdajk sorry guys APs are a bitch but at least my chronic stomach problems made me sit down and actually write this chapter
> 
> Anyways,,, I love Konan,,, good day


	8. Chapter 8

Itachi keeps glancing at the rain slick window of their room, eyes narrowed, expression shuttered off. The dark curtains are closed like funeral shawls, only providing a sliver of light through which Itachi watches, ensuring that none of the procession of rioters get too close. Across the table, Haku sits quietly, dropping the pair of dice onto the lacquered table. Six.

“You win.” He says, and Sasuke reaches to take them back. This is, objectively, the most boring game he’s ever played, and it does nothing to drain the tension from the room.

“We’ll be okay, Itachi.” He says. “You can go on your mission.”

It’s not like he really has much of a choice; the woman from before had made that clear. Itachi has no margin for disagreement. All he has is his orders, none of which are to be sacrificed for the sake of his emotional ease. Zabuza had already left to fulfill his tasks, leaving Haku with them for the ease of travel; the border was shut down once again in light of the tenuous, fracturing peace that had settled upon the country. 

“I won’t let anything happen to him.” Haku reassures, and Sasuke wants to tell the both of them that he _doesn’t need to be protected._ Itachi sighs.

“I know.” He says. The edges of the Akatsuki’s distinctive cloud-patterned sleeves hang over his hands, dwarfing him in its size. The collar tips up to hide most of his face, not unlike traditional Uchiha apparel, so only the dark of his eyes peers over them. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. The crows will tell me if anything goes wrong.”

Yobu caws, basking in the heat from the fireplace. Possibly the only dry place in all of Amegakure. 

Sasuke peers out into the street and leans his head on his hand. The protests had been going on for hours, long enough that Itachi hesitated to leave, fearing Sasuke’s penchant for trouble would rear its head again. Shinobi weren’t well liked, here, given its history of being used as a battleground. 

He’s learned… a lot of things about Konoha from Amegakure. The wealthiest people in Amegakure are the warlords, who bid off land to the highest buyer, usually for the purposes of warfare, profiting off the suffering of the civilians. They’re on borrowed time, at best, and whatever sway their wealth gives them is void before the villages. They couldn’t refuse even if they wanted to. Despite keeping Amegakure’s several paramilitary groups, the most notable of which being the Akatsuki, from interfering, any village could just as easily bulldoze over their feeble defense, nothing but a minor inconvenience to an organized military. 

No wonder the Akatsuki are feared by the elemental nations. 

The rest of the city trudges on in an effort to keep themselves alive. City limits are scattered with toppled buildings and property damage that the government is too poor to fix. The average citizen subsides on only their own survival efforts, huddled beneath roofs made from scavenged scrap metal, or trudging to find refuge in the overflowing homeless shelters.

“The Akatsuki,” Itachi told him. “Are favored here. They bring comfort to the people.”

The Akatsuki did a better job of governing Amegakure than the government did. Kakuzu was, apparently, so entrenched in the finances here that he was probably single-handedly the biggest contributor to the economy. 

“What are they doing?”

Haku looks up to follow his gaze. “The Iwa soldiers are back. They’re trying to invade Kusagakure again, and they want to surround it. They’ve been staying in people’s homes. I assume the locals are tired of the exploitation.”

Sasuke grimaces, and fiddles with the dice. He probes at the general congregation of chakra outside. Neither he nor Itachi are tracking types, but the Sharingan gives them the ability to differentiate chakra, and it’s easy to tell from the crowd where most of it comes from. Shinobi, earth natures, standing at the fringes of the crowd. 

“Again?”

Haku hums, nonchalant. “The last two invasions failed. Kusagakure is a hard place to lay siege to.”

Considering his own experience with it, he doesn’t doubt it. 

“Zabuza wasn’t worried about getting past them?”

“He doesn’t need to be.” Haku replies. “Iwa Shinobi are unlikely to abandon their posts to go after him, and they don’t have anything to gain by reporting the incident to Kirigakure.”

Sasuke scatters the dice on the table again. He didn’t play many games at home, certainly not ones that could be played here, and what ones he did were tactical-based board games. Itachi always had an eye for war games, going up against their father in his more serious games. He was always inferior to Itachi, so he never bothered playing with him. Now, in a different country, on the run to save their lives, Sasuke can’t decide whether or not he’s mad at him. 

“But he left you behind?”

“Easier to get over the border by himself.” Haku replies, unbothered. “He’ll come back when he needs me.”

“That doesn’t upset you?”

The dice clatter against the table.

“No.” He says it simply. “It’s the nature of our arrangement. I’m useful to him, and he gives me purpose.”

There’s something… terribly off-putting about that, even if he can’t figure out what it is. “He seems… dedicated to you.”

“So long as I’m useful.” Haku finishes. “It’s alright. I’m not bothered by it, really. My kekkei genkai can be of use, and I have a purpose again. I had nothing to return to, before him, and I commit myself to following him.”

Ten. Haku wins. 

Sasuke mulls that over for a minute. Tools. That’s how Haku sees himself, and how the Iwa Shinobi likely view their hosts, and maybe even their own armies. And Konoha- well, Itachi, apparently, wasn’t a useful enough tool to keep around. 

(Thinking about that night, thinking about Shisui’s gouged out eyes, haunts his dreams. He tries not to shudder). 

“That’s…” Nihilistic. He scrunches his nose up. “Depressing.”

Haku smiles. “Is it?”

The shouting reaches a crescendo again. Someone hurls a rock at the soldiers, and Sasuke doesn’t have to be an experienced soldier to know that the ragtag bunch of malnourished citizens don’t stand a chance. 

He wants to help them.

No wonder, he thinks, slower, Amegakure loves the Akatsuki, and the elemental nations hate them.

“They were rounding people up last night.” Sasuke shifts the conversation away from Haku’s introspection. “They woke Yobu up. What were they looking for?”

“Kekkei genkai users, probably. A lot of them are useful to a war effort.” 

There were no protests then. It was quiet. It occurs to them that people with kekkei genkais are feared, but especially so in a place like this, where Shinobi had dealt so much damage. Maybe his experience shut away from the rest of the village, ogled at by students in the distance, was universal. 

“Is anyone going to stop them?”

Haku gives him a _look._ “You have a strong sense of justice, but your brother would kill me if I let you do anything reckless.”

Sasuke sets the dice back on the table. Haku politely pretends he doesn’t see Yobu creep out the chimney. 

The Hyuga estate is always abuzz with activity.

Hinata rests back on her knees against the sweat-soaked matts. Hanabi stands across from her, sweat dripping down her face, shifting her back leg into position as Mother frets over her and the trainer adjusts her stance. The younger daughter, and already she’s the preferred one. 

Hinata doesn’t particularly enjoy violence or fighting, but she understands that, as the heiress to the Hyuga clan, it’s an unavoidable facet of her life. So she spars with Hanabi when the trainer dictates, and usually loses. Diplomacy, at least, she can excel at. Paperwork, reading, history, tradition, she does what she can to protect and preserve peace in the villages. 

“Sir-” She mumbles, and he turns to glower with cloudy white eyes.

“You’re dismissed.” He informs her curtly. Mother wipes her palms on her kimono, but doesn’t say anything as Hinata unfolds herself from the training matts and makes for the door. Her inadequacy is less likely to dog her every step when she isn’t in the same room as them.

She turns left, staring down the long hallway and into the branching rooms. 

Some branch Hyuga kneel in the room, meticulously washing clothes in the wash basins, splashing soapy water onto the floor. Her cousin is among them, curse mark branded upon his forehead, eyes creased in concentration.

They notice her staring, and glance up to meet her gaze. Neji glares, and her stomach flips, and she runs. She slows her pace as she walks by Father’s office, so it doesn’t seem as though she was upset, and closes in on it just in time to catch the dark flash of an ANBU member inside. They’re small - really small, for ANBU. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen one around her age, her stature. 

Father catches her gaze from the hallway, and his eyes narrow. The shoji slam shut before she can look away. Dread and shame mingle in her chest as she lowers her eyes to the floor and keeps walking. 

Was something going on? ANBU were rarely let into the state - for all that Father pledges his allegiance, he doesn’t _like_ them, especially not in his house. That usually means… private business. The type that Hinata doesn’t like to see and doesn’t like to think about. It makes her soft. It makes her incompatible with leadership roles. It makes her weak. 

Kind hearted people, Father has told her too often for her to count, are not fit to rule. 

Maybe Hinata doesn’t _want_ to rule. Such a thought is treasonous, even in the sanctity of her mind, where there’s no one to hear it but her. It feels ungrateful. She’s lucky Father attempts to train her at all. It isn’t her place to question her father’s business. 

She ducks her head like a good daughter and walks dutifully back to her room.

The riots don’t get any better. Sasuke is unsure of who escalated first, but a bottle was smashed against the side of an inn, and the screaming starts. He can’t make out any words beneath them.

Haku watches the violence with narrowed eyes. “We might have to relocate.”

Itachi wouldn’t be happy, but he’d be less happy if they got caught up in it. 

For all that keeping their sparse personal belongings packed up, ready to jump town at a moment’s notice, it does make moments like this easy. What few changes of clothes he has are already piled in his pack, and what supplies Itachi left behind sit near the warmed stones of the fireplace. 

The screaming gets louder. The crowd congregates, a web of shifting elbows and knees, blocking them from seeing much. Someone cheers. 

And then a spark catches. He can’t be sure if it came from a lantern knocked from its perch into a pile of dirty pillows and linens, or an intentional attack, or something thrown, but Sasuke knows fire, and the adjacent house, made of thick pillars of wood slotted together, bursts into flames. 

_Of all the days for it not to rain._

Sasuke rears up. Amegakure is made of driftwood in close quarters. Despite the frequent rain and mud, Amegakure burns easily. It’s no doubt happened before, probably intentionally, but where would they get the money to build better infrastructure? Where would they get the opportunity to construct precautions for fire?

They have maybe five minutes before the entire street is up in flames, if they’re lucky. 

“The Iwa Shinobi-” Haku frowns. “They should be able to put it out-”

The blaze continues to grow, scaling the side of the building. He can’t see the Iwa Shinobi anywhere in the street. Most of the citizens in the street have started to flee, and by this point, trying to put out the conflagration will do nothing but blow their cover. There’s a gang around here that cuts suspected enemy agent’s hands off so they can’t use hand signs, and Sasuke would very much like to avoid that fate. 

“Yeah.” Sasuke agrees. “But they’re _not.”_

He grabs Haku by the hand and drags him out the door, pulling up his hood. 

The smell of smoke is familiar. He can only wish it was under better circumstances. The flames burn orange against the darkened sky, kicking clouds of smoke into the air. It spills from windows, melting glass and reaching inside the home with flickering fingers. A spark catches, and the next house is quick to be devoured by the same flames.

A woman wrapped in rags pushes the two of them forward, yelling in a dialect he just barely understands. 

They run with the rest of the crowd up to the safety of a hill outside the limits of the city. The fire glows like Amaterasu’s bonfire, smaller from such a distance, twice as big as it was before. It coughs giant plumes of smoke into the air like thunderclouds. He can hear screaming, crying below.

He looks, wide eyed, at the destruction. 

“What happened?” He asks. The woman coughs, wiping the ash from her face. 

“I did not see.” She says, her voice gravelly. “A woodstack caught fire. I do not know who did it. It would not matter.”

“Why didn’t the Iwa Shinobi try to stop it?”

She points a trembling finger at the horizon. “Their camp is far over there. They risk nothing to kill us. We are not people to them, we are an inconvenience. If we all burned, it would be easy to claim this land.”

Sasuke swallows. Haku stares at the ground, distant-eyed, this tragedy but an old acquaintance. 

He calls for Yobu, who materializes from the great cloud of smoke completely unharmed. The woman notices him, even with one eye white with cataracts. Sasuke shifts his weight uncomfortably. 

“Is that worth burning a city?”

She stares into the fire. “Maybe to some.”

It isn’t until at least a half hour later when the rain starts, washing away the worst of the blaze.

Itachi has just finished his mission when the crows start acting up. He’s lucky the client wasn’t far, and was cooperative enough that securing a deal had been easy. He sloughs through a channel of mud, the rain wreathes the air like a fine mist. It never splutters into a proper shower, but sheets everything, leaving dew hanging from the naked branches of the trees. 

Akumu, named by Sasuke her for her tendency to tagteam merchants with Yobu, startles first, the feathers on her chest puffing out. She shares with him fragments of secondhand sensation, communicated from Yobu to her to him; flashes of an inferno spitting embers, a dark cloud of towering smoke. 

He needs no further incentive to rush back.

By the time he reaches them, guided by Akumu, the rain falls harder, and he’s coated in mud which will eventually dry, making for an unfortunately unpleasant experience, his hair plastered to the back of his neck. 

The crowd pulses around him like a living, breathing thing. He weaves between panicked people, now without homes, shouting for their relatives, practiced, like this is far from the first time they’ve had this drill. The crowd has organized a place for the children to go, so that they can be more easily found. Sasuke and Haku are among them, dripping with rainwater, both of them significantly more subdued than when he left.

“Itachi.” Haku greets, and glances at Sasuke. He doesn’t miss the way his brow creases.

“Are you both alright?”

Haku nods. “We’re fine.”

Sasuke doesn’t respond. He just keeps looking at the smudged wreckage of the still smoldering city. 

“... Sasuke?”

“She said this is what Shinobi do.” He says, and Itachi doesn’t have the chance to ask what he means. “All the time. Is this what you did?”

His breath catches in his throat. Haku looks at his hands. 

Itachi… will not try to justify what he’s done. It’s all been in the pursuit of peace, to minimize the amounts of death when he can, working within the system. Protecting Konoha. Trying to protect the people he cares about. And he’s come horribly short. 

Telling him _that’s just what ANBU does_ isn’t a reassurement. Quietly informing him that this happens every day, that it has always happened, that it will continue to happen, is not comforting. He can still remember flashes of the war, the ash that kept falling and falling, and how a man in a mask told him to burn the dead. _It keeps them from discovering anything from the bodies._

It’s always easier to follow orders than it is to question the meaning of what you’re doing. It’s easier to grasp at purpose than confront the fact that there might be none. 

What is he supposed to say, to that? 

Should he lie? Would it be kinder, for him to think that Itachi didn’t have his fingerprints in so much violence?

In the end he doesn’t have to say anything at all. Sasuke’s expression twists and settles and smoothes over all at once. 

“Oh.” He says, flat. The rain drums against the earth. The wind whistles a mournful tune over the crackling of dying embers. 

Itachi can’t help but think that between them, something has broken.

Mikoto crouches next to the river, soaking in all the runoff from the recent rain and bubbling merrily with the extra load. Leaves bob down it, disappearing around the bend, where they’ll eventually go over the falls and end up in the basin. She carefully arranges a bouquet of fireheart, clipping it from the overflowing bank, and leans back slowly, to give the salamander beneath her knee time to get out of the way.

Shiori yawns, basking in the sun. She bats a sapphire dragonfly with a lazy paw. Mikoto smiles and swats her lightly. “Leave the wildlife alone.”

She groans and rolls onto her back. If she’s willing to play, then that means, at the very least, that there are no ROOT agents watching them. Shiori would never express vulnerability otherwise. 

Mikoto stands. Through the gate, she can see the kids from before walking. The Nara - Shikamaru, his name was - leans against the wall, bored, while the pink haired girl and Choji draw with chalk on the sidewalk. They’re lucky no one’s told them to get away from the compound.

“We should get home.” She swings the basket. Shiori yawns again, baring her teeth, before slinking behind her. She growls at the trees as they near, hackles raising, but doesn’t otherwise engage. 

“Fugaku, I’m-” She pauses in the doorway. Her husband leans over the table, head in his hands. “Honey? What happened?”

“The patrol that went out a few weeks ago-”

Mikoto’s heart drops into her stomach. She’d had her suspicions when they hadn't contacted them after two weeks. 

“Takeo and Chinatsu are dead. They don’t know what happened to Harumi.” 

Mikoto closes her eyes. “Does Izumi know?”

“Yes. Her family requested our presence at the funeral pyre.”

She sinks into the seat next to him. “And the autopsies?”

“Apparently they were ambushed by their target - the injuries were consistent with his MO.”

Mikoto looks at the table. “One target got the drop on three of ours?”

Not impossible, but she and Harumi had crossed swords on more than one occasion, and it seemed unlikely. 

First the children, and now the adults. 

They need to do something. 

Kakashi watches the procession of children beneath with mild apathy. He sits on his haunches, crouched on a branch, keeping an eye out for the ROOT agent that’s been hanging around the playground. He can’t be sure who they’re after specifically, but he’s narrowed it down to the Nara’s little pack. His immediate suspicion is that Danzo has his eyes on the clan heirs. Shikamaru, Ino, or Choji could be valuable for intel, or something else. There’s also the pink haired civilian girl, though he can’t be sure what ROOT would want from her, besides interest in recruiting her.

Either way, he’s made himself aware to them, with a clear warning: don’t try anything. 

He doesn’t believe they’ll do anything in the open, but he wants to make himself clear in that if anything happens to them, he’ll know what was behind it.

“Throw me the ball!” Ino yells, holding her arms up. Sakura shrieks as Choji smears her chalk drawing, or- calculations? Shikamaru watches them boredly from his perch slumped over on the swings. Occasionally, he’ll make a weak attempt to pump his legs. _“Sa-ku-ra,_ you’re no fun.”

“Writing _is_ fun.” Sakura defends, throwing the chalk at her.

Shikamaru groans. “You’re all so loud.” 

He’s interrupted from his observations when something darts onto the branch next to him. A cat speckled with gray blinks lazy yellow eyes at him. Hiroki flicks his ears. 

“Hello, Hiroki.” Kakashi greets amiably. “Did Mikoto send you?”

He purrs as Kakashi brushes a hand over his ear, and drops a letter at his feet. 

“Thank you.”

It always pays to be respectful to summons. Hiroki doesn’t bother bidding him goodbye before leaping gracefully to the ground and sashaying back where he came from. 

Mikoto doesn’t send letters unless it’s a formal event.

Interesting.

It’s been a week, and Sasuke still hasn’t said more than one-syllable words to him, always in response. Always by his prompting. Something slick and festering drops into his gut.

Haku left two days ago. Without warning, Zabuza dropped by their temporary housing, took Haku with him, and hasn’t contacted them since. Not that Itachi really expected him to.

He doesn’t… know what to do. He doesn’t know what he can even say. Everything just loops back to some weak defense of himself. He doesn’t want to cause ripples. 

“Sasuke.” It’s now or never. “We should talk.”

Sasuke’s mouth twists. Yobu flaps his wings. Akumu, settled in his lap, caws. “About what?”

He reaches for steadiness. Not Weasel, because he can’t even deceive himself anymore, and that sort of disassociation from reality doesn’t serve him well anymore. The numbness isn’t a reprieve, it’s just a different pain on its own. “Please, just… tell me what you’re thinking. I know the fire upset you-”

“It’s not just the fire.” Some of the tension in his shoulders loosens. “It’s - it is the fire, but.” He chews on his lip. “Why do you want to protect Konoha so much?”

Itachi’s heart drops. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because… because Konoha could help Ame, couldn’t it? It doesn’t have to kill the people here, right? And they don’t have to leave the Land of Waves like that, either. But they do. Why? Because they can?”

Itachi fumbles. “It’s - it’s more complicated than that. Wars happen for a lot of reasons-”

Sasuke glares. “So they deserved it? All the people here should just die because it’s more convenient for them?”

“No, Sasuke, I didn’t say that-”

“And I know they didn’t like us. They keep us away from the city, in a cage. I know there aren’t any Uchiha in ANBU other than you. And that there’s not any in charge at _all.”_ The tension grows. Itachi digs his fingers into his knees. “And you - you said that we were bad, and they wanted to get rid of us. Danzo - he just got away with killing Shisui, right? And he was gonna do it to me, too. We had to leave because the village couldn’t protect us. Why would you… why would you _want_ to protect them?”

His eyes shine, and Itachi’s heartbeat thunders in his throat. 

Because he was born there, because by the time he was old enough to understand all the blood he’d shed in Konoha’s name, it _had_ to be for something. Because it was just what you did. They gave you a sword and they expected you to kill, and that was just the way things were. You were born somewhere and you were expected to protect it - the obligation had nothing to do with whether or not it was deserved. 

Itachi is what, fourteen now, and he’s already spent a decade of his life doing service in Konoha’s name, and it had to be for something. Now it was all null and void anyways, because Konoha was a distant relic of his past. Why had he defected, then? Why had he decided that this was the line they couldn’t cross?

“Sasuke, I’m so _sorry.”_

“What-” His brother reaches out as he leans forward. He wraps his arms around him, and settles his chin on the top of his head. “Itachi?”

“The village was always - it was my reason for being. I was… that’s what I was raised to do. It’s still… I was trained to protect it. There were enemies standing in its way that I needed to take care of, to protect its people. I still want to protect them. But… I know that it crossed a line. Danzo would’ve killed you if we didn’t leave, and he would’ve gotten away with it. I’m sorry that you were dragged into this, I’m sorry that I’m not - that I can’t be better. You should be home with Mom and Dad and not… here.”

He takes a deep breath. “I need to tell you something. Our clan was… our clan was planning a coup.” Sasuke inhales sharply against his shoulder. “I was the rat. Danzo knew. Shisui was going to stop it with his mangekyo - he had the power of persuasion, he could’ve stopped it peacefully. But Danzo didn’t want that, because he-” Deep breath. “-Doesn’t want peace. He wanted them dead. He… he wanted me to kill them.”

Sasuke’s fists tighten at his back. 

_“What?”_ He chokes out. “Were you going to…?”

“No!” He says sharply. “No, but I was… he convinced me that if Shisui’s plan didn’t work, then I would have to. He said that it was you or no one. I…” He closes his eyes. “I considered it. And then he killed Shisui and I knew he was lying.”

Sasuke stares, wide-eyed. “You considered it?”

“Yes.” He isn’t going to lie about it. Not this time. “I did. You don’t have to… forgive me for that. Or for anything I’ve done in the past. I’m just trying… to be better now.”

This is a lot for him, he knows, and it’s something that needs time. 

He sits back, and waits for Sasuke to speak.

“You…” He searches for his words. “I don’t know about that, yet. But I think… it was hard for you too. And you were trying to do the right thing. So thank you, for saving me.”

Itachi takes a deep breath, and lets some of the tension ease out of him. “Always.”

Kakashi strolls into the Uchiha compound half an hour late, partly because work held him up, but mostly because he just could, fully aware of the eyes on his back as he does so.

What? He rolls his eyes. Is it illegal to act on his clan rights now?

With Danzo around, it probably was.

“Kakashi.” Fugaku greets politely. Mikoto grins, sitting closer to the flames, and it gives her smile a dangerous edge. Shiori’s eyes reflect the light like hellfire, and considering her general disposition, it was an apt reflection of her true self. “We’re glad you could make it.”

“Of course.” He replies. “I’d never miss a clan meeting.”

That’s a blatant lie and everyone here knows it. 

“I assume you’re aware of the killings already.”

“Danzo is getting antsy.” He replies, noncommittal. 

“I think it’s going to progress soon. We came close, with Shisui. To think he would’ve killed a clan heir like that…”

The crowd murmurs amongst themselves. In the corner, Izumi sits with her father, mother absent. She’s young, older than he was when things went bad, but young nonetheless. Itachi’s younger brother was seven when his cousin was murdered in front of him and whisked away from his home. 

He sighs. 

“We have to do something.” Mikoto says. “We can’t keep letting them do this to us.”

“Well,” He says. “Don’t expect too much, but I think I might have a plan to stall him, at least.”

Mikoto snaps, and the fire roars. The crowd instantly silences. “The floor is yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kishi not resolving any of the arcs he set up: the hyuga can have slaves... as a treat
> 
> Tbh one of the main sins of b*ruto was making Sasuke a bootlicker like... in what universe. I wanted to strongly identify the real problems with the Shinobi system because boy, are there a lot. It benefits no one, and that's what Itachi is slowly discovering. This is the first big time tragedy Sasuke has seen, among his smaller ones, and it hits him kinda hard
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back and I'm here to cause problems.


End file.
